Ever In Your Favor
by EStrunk
Summary: In the Epilogue Katniss was just guessing what would happen next.  But she didn't see what was coming. Here's what really happened! PeetaxKatnissxGale If you think the end to Gale's story was just not right, take a look.
1. Intro  Katniss

**Prologue – Katniss's POV**

I'm such a liar.

I didn't mean to be, but then again, I never did.

I was just so tired, so tired of dealing with the whole thing. All I wanted was a quiet, boring life. So that's what I envisioned for myself. Peeta thought that I'd made the whole thing sound too dreary, but Haymitch thought it sounded impossibly sappy. So I figured maybe I had predicted the truth, somewhere there in the middle.

I was wrong.

I didn't see that life wasn't done playing with me yet. That Panem wasn't done with me. Like Buttercup tormenting a mouse.

But I also didn't see that I could come back alive - feel real joy, and real fear, again.

At least I learned that little white lies hardly ever stay little - or white.

**AN - Thanks for your help – IrishLuck19.**

**As I hope you've noticed this story is now complete. I know I prefer to read complete stories myself – no one likes to be left hanging. But the strange thing is, and I'm guilty of this myself, people tend not to review complete stories. Maybe you think the author is no longer hanging around fanfic any more. Hopefully, you're so dying to read the next chapter you just can't slow down to review. Whatever the reason, I've noticed this story is still getting lots of readers (thank you so much!), but fewer reviews.**

**So – drop me a line. Let me know your favorite part. Tell me if something strikes you as OOC or just not right. I still go back and fix things if I find something that could be done better.**

**One way or another, I'm honored that you're reading and I hope you enjoy the journey as much as I did.**


	2. Burning

**Disclaimer – I am not Suzanne Collins. I do not own the Hunger Games, Catching Fire or Mockingjay or any of the situations or characters from those books. I just like to borrow them sometimes. **

**Burning**

"Shoot me!"

Katniss looked at me blankly. She had no idea what I was saying. How could she forget that we had agreed not to let each other be taken alive?

I struggled against the Peacekeepers who were dragging me by my arms into a house. If I could give Katniss a few more moments maybe she would remember.

She didn't. So I just yelled at her to "Go!" She needed to get out of there, get away from me, as soon as she could.

Before long I was wishing I were dead, but for reasons far different than I expected.

Two enormous Peacekeepers had me, one with an arm tight around my neck and his other arm pinning my arms behind me. The other frisked me for weapons. They had my gun and arrows. He found the knife I had strapped to my leg. Then he checked my uniform around my neck. He must have known about the compartment for nightlock. Even if I had had a pill they would have taken it. Then he grabbed my face and moved it back and forth.

"Looks like we've got Hawthorne here," he said as they cuffed me. "Visitus, call that in. The girl's gotta be nearby."

Damn you, Katniss! Why didn't you shoot me? But Katniss had skipped out on our Interrogation classes back in District 13. We learned, the hard way, that you need to keep from being taken into enemy custody at all costs; they'd find out what you knew. We practiced keeping a secret. We'd been told that if we revealed our secret we wouldn't be allowed to join an active duty team. I thought I was tough, but once I went through the disorientation, detention in a cold cell, no food and sleep, then was pumped full of drugs, I told them everything I knew. There was no serious torture necessary.

We found out later that the point was not to get captured.

Katniss must have thought I just wanted her to shoot me because I was afraid of being tortured. Of course, that was true too. My gut twisted when I thought of sadists trained to destroy my body and my mind. But what was worse was how much I knew: rebel plans, personnel, weapons, casualties. And Katniss: where she was going, how she hunted, what she could do, what she couldn't do. Everything they would need to know to find her, to stop her, to kill her.

They dragged me through a back door, shoving me with a gun in my back. The gun had some sort of bayonet that jabbed me if I didn't move fast enough. I had to do something soon. The problem was I was covered in body armor. I either needed someone to shoot me in the head, which they wouldn't, or at very close range, which could kill just from impact even through body armor. Beetee was working on "Armor Blaster" bullets designed to explode when they touched the carbon fiber in the body armor, but the Peacekeepers probably didn't have anything like that. I couldn't count on it anyway.

Close range, very close range, was my best bet. As we entered the alley behind the house, the guard holding me turned to tell those behind us it was all clear. I jerked my arms away as hard as I could and bolted. Not away from the other soldiers, but right toward one, one who was young and hopefully trigger happy.

The point was for him to shoot me. At least that worked.

My first thought was pain. Being shot hurts. Then I realized that my plan, such as it was, hadn't worked. I was still alive. I had made things worse. Now I was in custody and injured. Great. That would give them more to work with. I needed a new plan. I would go for delay. The longer I could hold out, the more time Katniss would have to do what she needed to do.

I did not open my eyes. I didn't want them to know I was awake. I could feel that I was exactly where I didn't want to be: strapped to some sort of cold metal table. The restraints, on my arms, legs and across my torso and pelvis, were also metal. I focused on analyzing my pain. I seemed to have been shot in my left calf and my upper right chest. The body armor must have stopped the bullet, but spread the impact all over my chest. It hurt to breathe so I must have broken some ribs. As much as it hurt I was breathing more rapidly than usual and I still couldn't get enough air. That couldn't be good. I wondered how long I had been out.

I couldn't hear anyone in the room. In fact, the only sounds were some sort of fan and a fairly loud television. The room smelled of antiseptic. I tried not to think about what had been cleaned out of here.

I had been in rooms like these before. In fact, maybe I would get lucky and be in the same complex where we had rescued Peeta, Annie and Johanna less than a year ago. Then, if I could somehow get loose, which was possible but not very likely, I would have a chance to escape. I would just have to evade dozens of Peacekeepers through a labyrinth of passages and go up 3 levels to get to ground level.

But being strapped to a table was a lot different than standing next to it holding bolt cutters. Getting loose wasn't looking promising.

With my eyes closed I could tell that the room was bright. I couldn't hear anyone moving around. I decided to risk a look. Once they knew I was awake I wouldn't have much time.

There was no one else in the room. No windows, one steel door. An unlabeled IV hung from a rack next to me, but it wasn't attached to me. On the other side of that was a tray which had some tools on it. Scalpels, maybe? My clothes had been taken, although I was covered by a thin paper blanket.

I started to evaluate my condition. I had been cleaned off. The dirt, blood, and slime of the past couple of days were gone. They must want to start with a clean slate. My ribs hadn't been wrapped, but my leg felt bandaged, maybe two bandages. The bullet must have gone through.

Where was everyone? I knew that disorientation was part of interrogation. Solitary confinement was normal. But the door was slightly ajar. Surely that was a security violation. I could hear sounds from the hall like other prisoners calling to each other, but nothing that sounded like Peacekeepers.

And everywhere the noise of television.

There was even a television on the wall in the room. I knew the news here would be all propaganda or worse, but maybe I could glean some information from it anyway.

The shot was of the City Circle. It was chaos. There wasn't any more shooting, but lots of fires, in the buildings, in the street. Bodies everywhere. Where was Katniss? She should be easy to spot in her red fur. Then I recognized the voice. The announcer explaining the mess was the announcer Beetee used for his, for our, propos. Had he hacked in again, or was this some sort of mind trick my captors were playing?

There were groups of rebels running through the square, some with Peacekeepers in custody, medics getting to work, civilians everywhere.

"The Capitol has fallen," announced the voice. I reminded myself that I should expect that. If prisoners can be tricked to think the battle is over they will give up their information more easily, thinking it no longer matters. "Stay tuned for a replay of the final attack." The video switched to a shot from the same angle of the City Circle, but louder. Now there was gunfire, screaming. The area just in front of the Presidential Mansion was filled with people in a barricaded enclosure. There were Peacekeepers everywhere, some shooting, some standing alert.

I searched the crowd for Katniss. Would she still be alone? That would be a tip off. She would probably try to appear to be part of a larger group for cover. The people in the barricade were mostly too short, they seemed to all be civilian children. Bile came up in my throat; Snow was despicable, hiding behind children.

Just then I heard in the hall, louder, someone saying "Sound off. Who is still here?" I didn't answer. This could be a trick, but I heard other voices, calling out their names. I listened, wondering if I would hear anyone I knew. It was hard for me to focus. I felt light-headed, probably because I wasn't breathing right. I finally decided that I could not trust any of this to be true, so it was best not to even listen.

I turned back to the television. I had missed some sort of attack. It appeared that Peacekeepers and rebel medics were converging on the injured, many of them children, from different directions. Then a long braid caught my eye. The hair was too light to be Katniss's. But it was familiar. In a medic uniform.

I tried to sit up with horror. The restraints held me down. The pain in my side screamed when I moved.

It was Prim. Down there treating the injured. She was just 13. Were they mad?

And then I saw the bombs go off and Prim was gone in an explosion of flame.

I realized I was screaming and stopped. Not Prim, little Prim. Prim who had buried her head in my shoulder, sobbing, after I pulled her off of Katniss at the Reaping. It couldn't be. It made no sense. It was a trick my captors were playing on me.

But why would they do that? Why would they let me see an atrocity like that, that doubled my hatred of the kind of monsters who could do such a thing. Didn't they know it would steel my resolve, give me new strength to fight whatever they would do to me?

I still heard no sounds of guards or Peacekeepers. What little air I had had in my chest had been knocked out of me. I couldn't breathe. Prim who soothed and bandaged a frightened goat, who had pressed her clenched eyes into my chest, while I covered her ears, when Clove sat on top of Katniss in the arena. She had had to grow up so fast. When they bombed District 12 I had looked up after we finally knocked down a section of fence and saw Prim, scared but calmly calling the children, Posy and the others, to follow her as we fled into the forest. Prim who had whispered to me as I lay barely conscious on her kitchen table: "I hope she chooses you."

Katniss. Did she know? Had she seen Prim? Had she been caught up in the flames? Was she alive? No. This was not real.

My heart was pounding. I tried to ignore the pain and breathe deeply, slowly. This was a head game. They were trying to upset me. I could not go into their trap.

"Stay tuned for a replay of the final attack." I shouldn't watch. They were playing with me. But I had to see. I scanned the crowd for Katniss. This time I saw the hovercraft come in, dropping supplies for the children. No – bombs. A trap. But for who? The children? Why? Then I saw the medics come and I knew. The bombs for the medics were coming. My bombs.

I saw Prim again. Saw her explode. I felt like I was floating outside of my body, watching myself, watching it all. And I saw. And I knew.

It was my trap. I had set the trap. I was the monster.

And I came undone.

I was disembodied, floating. I began to see things, memories, but more clear, more hideous.

_Vick was tied to a post, a turkey nailed above his head, his blood flowing everywhere. And I was whipping him, lash after lash after lash._

_I was smirking and drawing a name from the tumbler and announcing that the honor went to "Posy."_

_I was grimly locking Greasy Sae into the stocks as a cold sleet fell onto her. _

_I was flying a jet which came out of invisibility long enough to drop bombs on the fleeing families of District 12._

_I was grabbing Finnick. He screamed and I slashed his throat. _

_I was blocking the air vents to exterminate everyone inside the Nut. _

_I was hurling a fire ball into Katniss's bare thigh._

_I was strangling Peeta until he fell, lifeless, to the ground._

_I was sending screaming volts through Johanna's body as she thrashed against the straps._

_I was sketching bomb arrays with Beetee._

Nightmare after nightmare, but always I was the monster.

When I could take it no more, I opened my eyes and saw the television. Prim exploding again and again.

I think I was screaming. Or maybe I was laughing. Or snarling.

I was a monster. I deserved this pain. No. More pain, much more than this.

I opened my eyes again. No change. The door still slightly ajar. Could I reach the scalpels? No. I could barely move.

Maybe they would come. Use the scalpels. Carve me. Maim me. Dismember me. I wanted them to. I wanted the pain. I deserved the pain. I scraped my arms, my legs against the cutting metal of the restraints. I pressed my leg with its bullet hole into the table. I rolled as far as I could onto my broken ribs. But it wasn't enough.

"Where are you? Come and get me!" I shouted.

"Don't worry," called an answer. "They'll come." But the voice was trying to comfort me. They didn't know what I meant.

The power went out. The fans and the televisions were silent. All was darkness. I couldn't tell if my eyes were open or shut. And I saw Prim explode. Again and again. All was fire. It was all I could see. I could smell it. I could hear it. I wanted to feel it. It should burn me, destroy me. Then I felt as though I was dissolving. I had left my body behind and was evaporating into the universe. Nothing more would be left of my flesh than a black charred dust which would disintegrate and blow away. The monster that had been Gale Hawthorne would be gone.

I don't know how long it was before I heard the sound of heavy boots coming. I didn't know who it was. I didn't care. I only hoped that whoever it was would give me the pain I deserved.


	3. Monster

**Disclaimer – I am not Suzanne Collins. I do not own the Hunger Games, Catching Fire or Mockingjay or any of the situations or characters from those books.**

**Note – Mature subject matter, including suicide.**

**Reviews welcome. Criticism particularly welcome. **

**And thanks so much to IrishLuck19 for the great beta work! **

**Monster**

I could see them as they came and took me off of the table. I was surprised to see my body still there. I thought it had melted away. But no, there it was, although it had turned a strange blue-gray color. My body was lifted into a gurney. Eyes wide open. Not moving. They listened to my heart with a stethoscope. I couldn't possibly still have a heart, but they noted something down and went on to take my blood pressure. I saw an IV injected into my arm, but didn't care what it was. They put all sorts of tubes into my mouth, my nose, my side.

They took me out, down the halls, onto an elevator, to the roof, into a gray egg-like stretcher pod, up to a hovercraft . . . .

To a hospital in District 2. Doctors, nurses came and went. Morphling added to my IV, then unconsciousness.

When I woke my mind was thick. I ached. I couldn't breathe. My ribs burned. Then I saw Prim again. Exploding. I screamed until they knocked me out.

Every time I woke up I had a few minutes of confusion before I remembered, then screamed. I started begging them to court martial me, to throw me into a dungeon, to turn me over to the Peacekeepers. No one would listen. They just gave me another shot of morphling and we did the whole thing again.

At some point they gave up on the morphling and gave me something that just made me numb. I couldn't eat. I couldn't move. I was a leaden weight. I was aware of the nurses. They would take my arm out of its sling. They would slide a giant belt under me which attached to a frame above the bed. That would help them flip me over, change my bandages, check the tube sticking out of my side, give me a sponge bath. It hurt, but not as much as I deserved.

People spoke to me, but I couldn't focus on what they said, who they were. Why would anyone visit me? I felt filthy, contaminated, contagious.

One day I noticed there was a window in my room. Outside I was surprised to see the sky. How could the world still be there? I thought I had slipped away from time, but it still had me in its grip.

"Hello – anyone home today?" a voice called. I made out the words, but I couldn't think of any reason to move.

"Gale? How are you doing?" Someone sat on the foot of my bed. My side gave a twinge. Johanna. I looked at her, but could not find the energy to speak. She found the controls to the bed and raised me up so that I was sitting. My ribs screamed. I wanted them to.

"I told them to ease up on your meds. You look like you're focusing now. Hello? Blink if you hear me."

I think I kind of blinked.

"Well, there we go. That wasn't so hard. Blink if you need me to get anything for you."

I did not blink. She couldn't make me be gone forever. That was all I wanted.

She stood up and smoothed my hair. I didn't want her to touch me. I didn't want her to be contaminated. I pulled away.

"What did they do to you?" she asked, not talking to me. "I guess I should be glad I didn't make Squad 451. So many went and only 3 still alive. Sort of."

She turned and went to the door.

"Alive?" I asked. I meant to ask who was alive? Somehow she knew that.

"You, Katniss and Peeta. They are in bad shape too. Both of them were burned by the fireballs."

She came back over to me. "No one told you that?"

Fireballs. I was seeing Prim explode again. I turned to look back at the window. I heard the door click as Johanna left.

Katniss was alive. And Peeta. Of course. Good.

No one understood what I had learned about myself. No one understood what I had done. Except Katniss. Prim was gone and she would know it was my fault. She knew I was a monster. I had promised to take care of her family. Instead I had destroyed it. If she was alive enough to be conscious, then she hated me. As I deserved. It still felt like a bullet slamming into me. I stared out the window without seeing. I tried to remember that I deserved this pain.

I did not cry. I hadn't cried through it all. I knew why. Tears were for the injured innocent. Monsters didn't cry.

I sat there all night. My mind was frozen on the facts: Prim was dead, I was a monster and Katniss knew.

The next day, sometime mid-day, they came in, offered me food as usual. I couldn't even look at it. Then they put me in the sling, cleaned me off, changed my bandages. Someone took the tube out and replaced it with a bandage.

When they had left I thought of what Johanna had said. Katniss and Peeta alive. Sort of. I wondered how Peeta was doing. Would he be able to take care of Katniss? Had he conquered the demons in his head? Or at least gotten control of them? Or would he lose it and try to strangle her again?

The Capitol had made Peeta believe that Katniss was a monster. He had tried to kill her. I was different. I had seen what was true all along. But now I saw something else, too. Maybe the solution was the same. This way I would never contaminate anyone. The monster couldn't hurt anyone else.

Johanna came again. I didn't talk to her. She checked my charts, asked me some questions, then glanced at her watch and left. She paused at the door to look back at me. "See you tomorrow," she said.

"_I don't think so,"_ I thought. I was forming a plan. I didn't intend to be here when she returned. I wondered if she would be sad. Only because she didn't know who I really was.

I thought about my plan all night. It was perfect. I had killed with my snares and my traps. I would be my own last victim.

After the nurses came in in the morning for the usual sling/ bandage-changing routine I knew no one would be in again for hours. They only tried once a day to bring me a meal, too busy to waste more time than that. Johanna had been coming in later in the day.

I looked around. No restraints. Just the IV, the breathing tube and some sort of monitor attached to my hand. It would have to be fast. I leaned forward and pulled the sheets out from around my feet. I'd use the sheet to make a noose. I was good with knots. All I had to do was put it on, throw it over the frame and tie it to the bed frame. The frame was strong enough to hold my weight. They used it to lift me every day. Then I would throw myself off of the side of the bed.

I decided to practice on my best knot, a snare. I twisted the sheet first to make it more like a rope, stronger, then tied the snare. I tugged it to make sure it slid. I took out the snare knots and started on the noose. I needed to work quickly.

The first one was sloppy, too loose. I remembered sitting around the fire at home one night showing Rory and Vick how to tie snares. Posy wanted to try. I held her hands and helped her, but her knots were too loose. We did it again and again until she got it right. I always made sure to spend extra time with Posy. She had been born after Dad died. She had never even met him.

I dropped the sheet, now tied into a sturdy noose.

I couldn't do this. I couldn't leave Posy. She couldn't lose me, too. In my mind I could see her beautiful face, crushed, grieving. She shouldn't grieve for me, but she would. I lay back on the bed and closed my eyes.

I couldn't do it.

I don't know how long I lay there. Suddenly I heard "Getting naked for me? You have made progress." It was Johanna. I thought vaguely that I shouldn't let her see the noose, but it was too late.

"What are you doing? Are you crazy?" She grabbed it from my hands. I didn't resist. "Don't answer that. What am I going to do?" She sat down on the bed, still holding the noose and rested her head in one hand.

But just for a moment. Then she stood up and came over to me.

"I should report this. Put you on suicide watch. But then it will go on your record. There is only one way that I don't. You are the most ridiculously honest person I know. So look me in the eye and promise me that you will never try to kill yourself."

I knew now that I couldn't do it anyway. I looked Johanna in the eye. "I promise."

"Swear it. On your family's lives," she demanded.

"I swear."

She was relentless. "Swear that you won't even think about it."

"No."

"Okay. I know you can't stop thoughts like that when they pop up in your mind. I've had them too. Swear that you won't play with those thoughts when they come. That you will push them away. Think of something else. Swear it." Johanna glared at me.

Could I do that? My brain was so sluggish. So full of things I couldn't or wouldn't control.

"No, but I'll promise to try."

Johanna untied the noose. "I'll get the nurses to come get you a new sheet. And tuck it in nice and tight so you are not tempted."

She sat on the bed again. "I don't know what they did to you, but hang on. It will get better. You are one of only about 5 people I know who aren't dead. Don't leave."

"You need to meet more people," I said.

She looked at me in surprise. "Did you mean to be funny? Wow. You are making progress. By the way, get yourself gussied up. You have visitors coming tomorrow." She smoothed my hair. I let her. I didn't want to hurt her feelings. It would sound crazy if I told her that I didn't want to contaminate her. She gave me a wave and left.

Visitors? Who could that be? Not Katniss. Unless she came to kill me.

None of nurses treated me any differently when they came in the next day. Johanna had kept her word. She didn't tell them anything. I tried to help this time when they rolled me over. I was tired of being a burden.

As they left, one of the regulars, a thin but strong older man, said "You may get out of here yet, buddy."

I found myself staring out of the window again. The sky was deep blue, covered all over with thin wispy clouds. I didn't deserve to see anything so beautiful. So I turned my head away and found myself looking at my mother.

I didn't know how long she had been there. She had always been able to move soundlessly.

"Gale, baby," she said as she came over. She put her palm gently against my cheek. She acted as though she was afraid to touch me. She should be.

"How are you?" she asked.

"Not good."

"We came as soon as we could. Can I get you anything? I am under strict orders to get you to eat something." She pulled up a chair.

"Not now. I'm not hungry."

My mom could never sit still without doing something with her hands. She took some lotion from the table next to my bed and began to massage it into my hand. My hands were so dry they were cracked. I wanted to tell her to stop. Tell her I didn't deserve anything that felt that good. But she wouldn't understand. I tried to tell myself that if I didn't want her to do it, but I let her anyway, then I was denying what I wanted, a kind of pain. But it felt too good to count.

"Honey, I've been so worried. I'm so glad you are alive. Do you want to talk? You can tell me anything."

"No. I can't." I didn't know where to begin. I couldn't tell her how Prim exploded. I couldn't bear to tell her what a monster I was. We sat in silence as she took my other hand and massaged it.

"Hey, the kids are waiting down the hall. The boys are reading Posy stories. That won't last long. Can they come in?"

"Yeah," I said.

"By the way, I have to warn you. Rory has grown a bit." Then she left.

How could I say 'no?' But I didn't want them to see me. They wouldn't know what I was, what I had done. They couldn't even imagine the evil I had done.

I looked at the door and drew my breath in fast enough to stab me in the ribs. I was looking at myself standing in the doorway. Younger than I was now and a fuller face. Wow.

"_Rory_?"

"Hi," he said, enjoying my reaction.

"I told you he had grown," my mom said, coming into the room.

"See what happens when I get some decent food." He came over and started to punch my arm. Mom's hand flew out and stopped him.

I didn't see Posy coming. She jumped up onto the bed and hugged me. "Galey!" she exclaimed.

I bit back a moan. The impact with my ribs hurt, a lot, but the hug was amazing. I couldn't hug her back because my arm was in its sling. I buried my face in her hair. I didn't deserve her. I couldn't contaminate her. But it would hurt her if I pushed her away and I couldn't do it.

Vick peeked through the crowd. "Did you really get shot? Can we see it?"

"Vick, not now," my mom interrupted.

But I said "No. It's okay."

Rory helped me pull the sheet out. I flinched as I remembered pulling out the sheet yesterday. What if they had gotten here and found out that I . . . .

I focused on turning my leg so that they could see both bandages.

"Two. Did it go in one and out the other?" Rory asked. He always loved gory details.

"In the back, out the front." I said.

"Can we look under the bandages?" Vick asked.

"Vick, no," mom protested.

But, again, I said "I don't mind." I lifted the corner of a bandage. I hadn't even seen the wound myself yet. It was just a small gash.

Posy wasn't sure if she wanted to look.

Vick glanced at her and said "Come see - the bone is sticking out."

She let out a shriek and buried her face in my shoulder. I winced again, but welcomed the pain.

"Not really, Posy," I said. "You can look. It's not that bad. You've had cuts bigger than that." She peeked under the bandage, then came back and climbed up onto the bed next to me.

"Not that came out the other side," pointed out Rory.

"How many times did you get shot? Is there another one?" asked Vick.

"Twice, but the other one was blocked by body armor," I explained.

"So, did it hurt? That one?" asked Rory.

"Yeah. I broke some ribs. And I think I hurt my lung."

"You have broken ribs? How many? Which side?" said my mom.

I looked at her. "I don't know how many, on this side," I said pointing to my right side, where Posy was sitting.

"Posy, get down," my mother said. Posy jumped off the bed.

"Can we see it? What's it look like?" Vick asked.

"Okay," I said. It took a long time to take off my sling, unsnap my hospital shirt. I couldn't move very fast. I kept reminding myself to welcome the pain. I was mostly covered by a wide white bandage, which felt like it was holding me together. Underneath the clean whiteness my skin was black with an enormous bruise. I pulled back. My skin looked as hideous and foul as my soul felt. I shouldn't be letting these kids so close to me. I lay back on the bed. I looked at my mom. I wanted to yell "Get away," but I didn't have the strength to do it.

Mom noticed right away, but she misunderstood. "Okay, you guys, that is enough for now. Everybody out. Gale needs to rest." With plenty of muttering the boys headed out for the hall. Posy came over to me.

"I have something for you. This is my good luck charm. Keep it. It's for you," she put a small bundle into my hand, kissed my cheek and followed her brothers out into the hall.

I watched her go. I was torn in two. I should send them all away. Yell at them. Tell them to get away from me. Warn them. They didn't see how cruel and bloodthirsty I was. They didn't know how many children I had killed. Kids no older than they were. Who died screaming in pain. I saw Prim again. And again. And the others. Someone mourned them, just as I mourned Prim.

I couldn't tell them. Posy's eyes were so beautiful. Like mine, but soft and innocent. I couldn't tell her that the world held monsters who would do hideous things to the innocent. That her brother was one of them. And I would kill her innocence just by telling her.

But one day she would find out. She would see me for who I was. And her skin would crawl wherever I had touched her.

I realized my Mom was standing next to me. Mom kissed me on the head and said "We'll stop by later to see how you are doing."

I had to say something. Now. She had just reached the door when I gasped out "Mom, you have to get them away from me."


	4. Healing Regimen

**Disclaimer – I am not Suzanne Collins. I do not own the Hunger Games, Catching Fire or Mockingjay or any of the situations or characters from those books.**

**Reviewers loved. Come on, drop me a line. Criticism particularly welcome. **

**Thanks again to IrishLuck19 for the great beta work! And "Congrats" to your brother. **

**Healing Regimen**

"Gale, what's wrong?" My mother frowned at me. "Are they wearing you out?"

"No. You don't understand." I couldn't look at her.

"Then explain," she said. "Wait." She went to the door, said something to Rory, then came back in and sat in the chair by my side.

I wished I was better with words. She hadn't seen what I had seen. I would never make her understand. But I had to get them to leave.

"I'm a monster." I barely whispered it. "I'm not safe. You have to leave."

She took my hand again. I wanted to pull away but I couldn't.

"Gale, whatever you have seen, whatever you have done, I love you and I will not leave you. Even if you want me to."

I looked at her. My mother was the most stubborn person I knew.

"I don't deserve it. I don't deserve you," I said.

"That doesn't matter. I have loved you since the minute you were born. Before that even. Not because you deserve it, but because you are my son. Nothing you do can change that."

I turned away. I would contaminate her. What could I do?

"Gale, the things you have done have made me very proud of you. You have taken care of our family, our whole District."

I didn't point out that most of the people from our District were dead. But I saw their faces.

"Your sister and your brothers love you and that is something you have earned, over many years. Whatever you have done does not erase that. Don't drive them away." She gave me an intense look. I knew she wouldn't leave without a fight.

I sat up and leaned toward her. "But Rory looks like me. What if he tries to be like me? You need to get him away from me."

"Do you think that would work? If we left today he wouldn't want to be like you? Your dad died seven years ago. Do you still want to be like him?"

I lay back and closed my eyes. What could I do? I hadn't died. I couldn't kill myself. No matter what I did it was too late. I needed to have never been born.

My mother gripped my hand. "Gale, do you want to tell me what happened?"

I kept my eyes closed. "No."

"Fine. But you are not a monster. I have known cruel, vicious, heartless men. You are not one of them. Men like that don't think that they are monsters. If you have done something wrong and you know it was wrong then you are not a monster. You need to make sure that you never do it again. If there is something you can do to fix what you have done, do it. Then forgive yourself and go on," she said.

She made it sound so simple. It was not just one thing I had done wrong, one thing I could resolve to never do again. It was more than that. So many things I had done, so many thoughts I had had, so many more things I would have done if I had gotten the chance. I couldn't trust myself. And there was nothing I could do to undo what had been done, to bring back those who were gone. Prim. The others.

"If you want me to send the kids away I will. But it will hurt them. They need you. Let them stay, Gale. You need them." I should have known better than to try to argue with her.

"Mom, I don't know what to do," was all I could come up with. I sounded like a little kid.

"Rest. We'll come back later," she said as she kissed my hand. Then she kissed my head and left.

I was so tired. My thoughts were a mess. Maybe it was all those years listening to my mom, but I just did what she told me to do. I went to sleep.

* * *

It was hours later when I woke up. I still didn't know what to do with myself, but somehow a burden had lifted. Maybe I wasn't a monster. Or if I was, I didn't have to stay that way.

I was still holding the little bundle that Posy had put into my hand. It was a simple pouch, made out of rabbit skin. There was something hard inside. I turned it up-side down and a rock fell into my hand. It was thin, flat, almost a perfect circle, oak brown with lines radiating out from the center and throughout it a golden sparkle.

Mom peeked in the door. "We're back. Is it okay?"

I nodded and there they were, Posy back up on my bed. This time I got her to go around to my other side. I just held her. My ribs still hurt, but that was okay. I looked at Posy's long black braid and saw Prim's blond hair.

Posy looked at me with her most serious I'm-going-to-be-a-teacher-when-I-grow-up face. "Now you are going to eat some dinner." She was only seven, but she was as stubborn as my mother.

She was right. I had some chicken broth in a tin bowl and crackers. A child in the Seam could barely survive on that, but it was a start. It was the first thing I had eaten since things I didn't want to think back to. I decided that, since I didn't trust myself, trust my own judgment, I would put myself into Posy's hands. She had never had an evil thought. I would just do what she told me to do. This had the added advantage of making her very happy.

After dinner, Posy announced "We are going to have some vanilla pudding." She loved pudding, a new discovery in District 13. "Mom says I can have one bite every time that you have a bite." I looked at my mom. We both knew she had set a trap so that I would have to eat some pudding. I had to fight to hold the pudding down, but Posy enjoyed hers.

When I finished the pudding Posy announced "Mom says we have to leave so you can take a real shower."

I was just about to protest when a voice said from the door "Excuse me."

A uniformed man with impossibly short white-blond hair was standing in the door.

"Soldier Hawthorne?" he asked.

"Yes, sir," I answered.

My mom gathered up the kids and whispered "We'll be in the hall."

"Excuse me, ma'am. Soldier Hawthorne. I am Captain Alabaster Brighton, the captain of the unit to which you have been reassigned. I am here to determine when you will be fit to return to duty."

I hadn't even thought about that. I was ready to put myself at Posy's service, but who was this guy? How could I put myself at his command? Did I have a choice? I was still a soldier. Last year when we started training in District 13 I'd signed up for a two year stint in the army. It seemed so long ago.

"I've gone over your medical file and there are some serious gaps here," he continued. "You were shot twice, once in the right calf, once it the upper right torso, deflected by your body armor."

"Yes, sir.'

"Seven ribs broken on your right side?"

"That sounds about right, sir," I didn't know that I had broken that many.

"Have they been treated?" he asked.

"They are wrapped, sir," I answered. I remembered back in District 13 Katniss had taken something that made her ribs mend. I pushed away thoughts of Katniss and everything that came with them. I needed to focus on these questions.

"A punctured lung, with a surgical repair?" I didn't answer. I had no idea I'd had surgery. It must have been just after they brought me in.

"You were in enemy captivity in the Capitol for less than 24 hours. There is nothing in your file to indicate injuries resulting from your interrogation." I did not answer. Again.

"Soldier, were you injured during your captivity in the Capitol?"

"No, sir, not physically," I answered, trying to be accurate. He looked at me.

"Were any foreign substances administered to you during your captivity?" he asked.

"I don't know, sir." I could have told him that I didn't think I had been given anything, but this wasn't the time for me to give my opinion. I would try to stick to what I knew for sure. Plus, I didn't want to try to explain my complete meltdown.

"Up to this point, you've had an exemplary record, although your last rather dramatic mission has no write up at all given the 100% casualty rate." I didn't want to think about my record up to this point or my last mission. I didn't answer.

"You haven't been taking nourishment nor been responsive for nearly a month now." This didn't seem to be a question.

"However, you seem responsive now."

"Yes, sir," I answered.

"And you have taken some nourishment today?"

"Yes, sir."

"Given the extent of your injuries, if we start you on the proper regimen your ribs will be fully healed in 72 hours. I believe that your recovery will be assisted by an appropriate assignment. I think you can be ready for a new assignment in as little as one week, no more than two."

"Sir, it depends on the assignment. I am not at my best right now." My mind was frozen.

"I have a number of possible assignments available. I'll leave the list with you. We will meet again in 3 days, after your healing regimen. You may give me a list of three assignments which interest you and I'll select the most appropriate."

"Yes, sir," I said, but my gut was cold. What assignment could be appropriate for me? Would there be one where I couldn't cause any damage to anyone?

"One further note, Soldier. I have been informed that in one month's time you will be required for a special assignment."

"Sir, what kind of special assignment?" What could they need me to do?

"It will be basically a propo. It should not be physically demanding. Your presence is requested in the Capitol during the execution of former President Snow by Soldier Everdeen. Is there any reason that you anticipate being unable to fulfill this assignment, soldier?"

I said "No, sir," out of habit, and because there was no way I could explain the many problems with that assignment.

* * *

The next day I made Posy very happy by having a piece of toast, some oatmeal and lemon tea for breakfast. I made my mom happy by getting out of bed and surviving a real shower.

But then they started my rib treatment. I made my family leave while they gave me more shots than I could count, all around my right side. They told me to avoid morphling while on the medication, which didn't seem like a big deal since I hadn't been on morphling for weeks.

My family came back just as the nurses were finishing. They were just about to wrap my ribs in their usual bandage. Posy slipped in between two nurses and stared at my side. Mom called her back and they wrapped me up.

At first I thought the pain wasn't too bad. But it just kept building and building. My ribs felt like they were bursting. I couldn't help thinking that some morphling would've been great. I kept reminding myself that I deserved this pain, that many I had killed had felt far worse than this, that many would be glad to be alive and in this pain. According to Rory, I was a putrid green color. I couldn't sit still. I kept trying to find a position that didn't hurt so much. I would resolve to just take the pain, then find myself squirming again. I choked down some chicken noodle soup at lunch. For dinner the only thing I managed to eat was the vanilla pudding. I wasn't looking forward to a long night alone with my pain.

My mom massaged lotion into my foot. It felt so good that I lay still, focused on my foot and tried to ignore my ribs. Mom looked at me and said "Gale, I think we should take shifts and stay with you tonight. Posy and I could take the first shift, then Vick, then Rory. If we split it up it will just be 3 hour shifts. What do you think?"

"You don't have to do that. You'll all be exhausted tomorrow," I said.

"We'll be fine. We can nap tomorrow if we are tired."

"Galey, I'm going to be your doctor," announced Posy. Once again, I had to obey her.

Mom sent the boys off to their quarters and pulled out some sewing. She had been working in the laundry in District 13 and was picking up some mending jobs to do on the side. One of the nurses gave Posy a stethoscope to use. She listened to my heart. She made me listen to hers. Its thumping was fast and strong. Then she said "Let's take a look at those ribs." I opened my shirt. I had fresh bandages on, but the vivid bruises blazed out around the edges. She studied them closely.

"Posy, be careful," Mom warned, but it wasn't necessary. Posy took one finger and gently traced the outline of my bruise. Her soft finger was a like a balm on my skin.

"It's pretty," she said. "It is like a rainbow now. There are lots of colors: purple, red, yellow, green. But I saw the whole shape. When the colors are right it will look like the sun." I looked. The colors radiated out from the dark center, covered by the bandage. I rubbed Posy's soft dark hair.

"Only you would be able to find that," I said.

"Can't you see it?" she asked.

"Now I do."

After a while Posy curled up on the bed next to me. On the side with my hurt ribs. I slipped my arm sling over her. Mom wanted to move her, but I said she should stay. Her warm weight eased the burning in my side.

Posy frowned at the sling. "Did you break your arm, too?"

"No," I explained. "The sling keeps me from moving to protect my ribs."

"Do you have the good luck charm?" she asked.

"It's right here," I said.

"It's a rock I found outside the mine. I thought it was gold, but Vick said it's just a rock with fool's gold in it. It's still pretty. And it works. It is good luck." She looked right at me and I bit back the urge to smile.

"How do you know?" I asked.

"Because every Reaping I would hold it in my hand and pray and pray 'Not Gale, not Gale.' And when the bombing started I kept it in my hand and it kept us safe. And when you went away to war I held it every night and prayed for you to be safe. And when Mama said you were in the hospital I held it all the time, not just at night, for you to get better. And it worked." She put her head back down on my shoulder.

I looked up at my mom. Her wide eyes told me that she had not known any of that.

"I can't keep this," I said. "It's yours." I tried to put it back in her hand.

She pushed my hand away and reached into her pocket to pull out another rabbit-skin pouch. "Mama made me a new one. This is for my second best rock. I found it in the creek. It was a circle so I went in and got it. Then I took it home. I washed it off and it was perfect white." She pulled out a rock. This one was about the same size, but smooth, white, flawless. "I'll use this one and you use my first best rock." I couldn't say anything. I didn't deserve her. Who could?

She wanted me to tell her a story. At home I used to make up stories for her, adventures that started out with things that had happened while Katniss and I hunted in the woods, but then wound away into make believe as we chased elves or fought off dragons. I couldn't go back into my recent life for story material though. Mom had brought some books with her and I read one of them to Posy long after she was asleep.

I wondered if I should hold her. Would I contaminate her? She was so good, so pure. Could it work the other way? Could she purify me? I didn't want to hurt her. I decided to trust her judgment and just hold her. When she was older, when she learned about the things I had done, then I would beg her to forgive me.

Mom told me about the changes in District 13. How they had to pay for rooms and meals now, but they could get jobs and get a paycheck. In the laundry there was an area where Posy and the other children could play and nap while their mothers worked. They were planning to move back to District 12, saving money for a new house. There were classes in District 13 too. People who needed to build new houses could watch and learn as they built demonstration houses above ground. Mom and the boys all went to the classes when they could.

Mom and Posy's shift was over quickly. Posy gave me one last sleepy hug as Mom carried her off. Vick came in and sat in Mom's chair.

Vick and Rory were taking a hunting class.

"We are learning bows and arrows, but no snares." This clearly annoyed Vick.

"But you already know how to tie a snare," I reminded him.

"No," he said. "My snares are just not working right. Can you show me again? Show me where I'm going wrong?" He went out in the hall to charm some string out of the nurses.

I thought back to the traps I had invented and set in the woods, then to the traps I had invented and set for real people. The noose I had tied for myself. I couldn't tie those snares again. I had the hands of a monster.

Then I remembered the woods at home, long before the war. My dad had taken me hunting. He had taught me my first snares. Those weren't my snares, my evil traps. They were my dad's snares, just for catching dinner. They kept us alive when he was gone. And they weren't mine to keep. He would want me to share them with Vick.

So I worked with Vick on the first snare Dad had ever taught me. I was surprised at how nimble his fingers were. We soon figured where he had gone wrong, then he tied snare after snare perfectly. He asked me if I knew any others. I showed him the one other snare Dad had taught me, but no more.

"You're a natural at snares," I told him. "You'll probably catch more with yours than Rory." Vick beamed. He was obviously annoyed that Rory had gotten so tall, had left him behind. Vick was eleven now. I told him about the things a smaller person could do, climbing to the higher branches of trees, going farther out on the limbs, sneaking silently through the underbrush. I pushed away my memories of Katniss, but they came back again and again.

Then it was 2:00 in the morning and Rory came in.

Like Vick, he was excited about his hunting class.

"The teacher is this guy named Mortimer Smith. I don't think he is as good as you. We practice on the range. Twice a week we go up above and hunt. Do you remember my friend Kinnick? We took down a deer the other day. They paid us a ton for it and served it up for dinner. It was great." He had always talked fast.

"Good for you. The first deer I ever got was hurt." I almost said "we." Katniss and I had brought down that deer together.

"This one was hurt, too," Rory said. "It was limping or we never would have gotten it. We each got it once. Our shots weren't too good. We actually had to finish it with a knife." Rory seemed embarrassed now.

"Sounds exactly like the one I got. I finished it with a knife, too." Then I wished I hadn't said that. I didn't want him to be like me. Except that I looked at him and knew that he was.

How could I warn him? What should I say? "Don't follow me." "Don't think like me." "Don't be a monster." Instead I just asked him: "So you are going back to the District?"

"There's nothing much there now. That's why we have to be able to build. We are saving money. Vick and I have worked a bunch of clean-up crews, brush clearing up top, stuff like that." He was going so fast I had to work to focus.

"Vick and I volunteer for any work that is outside. And I . . ."

He stopped. I waited. "What?" I finally asked. He was fidgeting with his hands. "Well, the bows they gave us don't seem very good. They didn't work as well as your old one I had in the District. So I have been trying to make my own."

"That's great," I told him. "I've tried to make bows. They're not easy."

"I thought you made your bows, the ones you used," Rory said.

"No, I traded for them." I don't say who traded with me for them, but he probably could figure that out. "If you can learn to make good bows they are worth a lot."

"What I want to do is join the army as soon as I am 18. They are going to make us wait until 18 now."

I looked out the dark window. "That's five years from now. Wait and see. There's no more war. Maybe you should build houses and make bows in District 12 instead."

"I want a chance to fight, too. To make my mark. You don't understand. You're already famous. They want to name part of District 12 after you," Rory said.

I sat up straight, flinching. I looked Rory in the eye. "Don't let them do that. I will never come back to the District again if they do that. Promise me you won't let them do that."

"Why?" Rory was confused. He had thought I would like that news.

"Being famous is rotten," I said. I remembered hands on my face, a voice saying "Looks like we've got Hawthorne here." I sat back. "Rory, I have done things I never should have done. Things no one should ever do."

"Why are you so mysterious about everything? Why can't you just tell me what you did? I'm not a kid anymore." Rory glared at me.

"Okay, someday I will tell you. I promise. Just not yet. I can't. I am still thinking things through." When I told him, he would hate me. When would I be ready to lose my brother forever? I had taken Katniss's sister. I deserved to lose my brother.

"I don't know if I can stop them from naming stuff after you. But I'll try," he said. I could tell that he hated saying that.

He was mad. We sat in silence for a long time.

"Can you tell me about when you got shot?" he asked quietly.

"What do you want to know?" I asked, not sure where this would lead.

"Did you shoot anyone?"

"Not then. I'd been captured. They took all my weapons," I answered.

"Where were you?"

"In the Capitol. Just outside of the City Circle. The street opened up and I managed to grab onto a door to keep from falling into this pit. When the door opened" - I skip the part about how the door opened – "there were Peacekeepers there. They grabbed me and took everything. They knew who I was."

I stopped there. I didn't want to tell him that I wanted a nightlock pill. That I was trying to get shot.

"So did you get away?" he finally asked.

"Not for very long. That's when I got shot."

"How far were you from the guy who shot you?" he asked.

"My leg – I don't know. I didn't see him. My chest – about 4 or 5 feet. Pretty close."

"I thought . . ." he started. "I thought body armor doesn't work that close."

"Apparently mine did."

"Or you got lucky," he said.

I couldn't say what popped into my head – that it was unlucky. That I had wanted to be dead. Did I still want to be dead? No. I wanted to have never existed in the first place. But that wasn't one of my choices. What did I want, then? I didn't know.

After a while I asked "What kind of wood are you using for your bows?" We talked about the best wood for long bows, short bows, arrows.

When he left at five o'clock I asked him not to wake up the others when he got back. I'd gotten through the worst of it now.

I decided to look through my possible assignments. Three pages of assignments and I only found one that would be 'appropriate' for me: the Grave Digging Unit.

* * *

**Thanks to my great reviewers: Scuff the Newsgoil, Solaryllis (I revised my summary a bit – let me know what you think), Analyn Lana Ruse, November92009 and Spanish Angel. Thanks also to IrishLuck19 for her insightful beta'ing.**


	5. Building

**Disclaimer – Suzanne Collins owns the Hunger Games, Catching Fire and the Mockingjay and all of the characters from those books. Lucky girl.**

Building

"Katniss, get away from that!" Peeta yanked my hand back from the open flame.

"It is just the stove. You have to let me use the stove." I took my hand back and put a skillet onto the gas burner.

"I'm sorry. I'm trying. Of course, you can use it. Just tell me before you turn it on so I can be ready, look away or something."

"Okay, now, how do you want your eggs?"

Peeta was actually much better. It had been a long time since he had had that crazed look in his eyes. The last time was more than a month ago when we had taken a walk near where the square used to be and he tripped over a piece of charred wood. Later he told me that, once again, he had seen me laughing maniacally, setting fires while mocking him. For a moment he had hated me, but he knew it wasn't real.

His new issue was fire, not the old fires, but live ones. He had been there in the city square, had seen me ignite, even as he himself was burning. He claimed that this new horror dimmed all the other memories, the ones that weren't real. But this one was completely different, at least for me. Now, he was afraid that I would get hurt, back to protecting me. So I avoided fires as much as I could. We were working on using the gas stove in the kitchen.

"Hello? Are you there?" Peeta waved his hand in front of my face.

"What?" I said, startled.

"You haven't eaten anything. And when I asked you what was wrong you said 'Um, yeah.'"

"Can we go for a walk?" I asked. I still had trouble having some conversations in the house.

"Sure," said Peeta and we headed out, leaving breakfast for later. Buttercup followed us. He must have wanted to hunt.

The dream, like all of the worst ones, had seemed so real, although when I started telling him about it, it didn't sound real at all.

"I was trying to kill Snow, then he turned into Coin, but she became Plutarch, then I thought maybe he was Haymitch, then some sort of horrible mutt version of Snow appeared and just as I was about to fire my arrow I realized it was my mom." I babbled on, glad that it was starting to sound more bizarre than frightening.

Peeta knew that I just needed to tell him about the dream, so he listened. Then all of a sudden he said "This is silly."

"It isn't silly. What do mean?" I had always been able to count on him not to laugh at my nightmares.

"Not your dream. Having to go outside to discuss it. Its our house. Snow is dead. Why're we out here?"

"Because he was in that house. I don't trust that house," I snapped. "Who knows what cameras or listening devices are still in there?"

"But no one listens to them anymore," he said.

"How do we know that?" I knew I sounded paranoid.

Peeta shrugged. "So let's build a new house."

I stopped walking. "What do you mean? Where? How? We don't know how to build a house." But I was wondering why I had never thought of this before.

"We could tear down my old house and use the materials for a new house. Either in the same place or somewhere else if you wanted," Peeta said.

I was afraid to get too excited. "I don't know. It would be a lot of work. And we aren't completely healthy yet." Actually, we both knew that he was the one who wasn't quite back to normal. Normal, of course, was never going to be what it had been. We both had problems with our new skin. We needed lots of lotion and we had to be sure to wear sunblock outside. But for Peeta it was more than that. He was still tiring too easily. He never complained about it, but I could tell when he was not feeling well.

"The exercise will be good for me. It will get me back in shape. Where would you want our house to be?"

"Do you think we could get some land closer to the woods?"

"Sure, we would have to talk to the city council and see what's available over there, but there is plenty of space. Or we could use your parents' land. That still belongs to you."

I could not believe how much I loved this idea. We went walking where the Seam had been. All the old houses had been destroyed, but the mess had been cleaned up. I was amazed at how nice it looked. Several families had come back and rebuilt houses. Hazelle and her kids - the younger ones anyway - were putting up a much bigger house with a garden in front and a fence around it to keep the chickens in. We decided that we didn't want to be too far away from neighbors and my parents' land would work fine.

Only a few days later we were watching Greasy Sae and friends pour the cement foundation for her house. We took notes and helped where we could, then started buying the materials we needed to pour our own. Everything still went mostly by bartering, so we started taking Peeta's old house apart and trading away wood, doors, pipes, for cement. Peeta insisted that we keep the central heating system, even though it would need a lot of modifying. He did not want our home heated only by fireplaces and the open flames inside them.

Most of the things we needed we could find or make here in the district. Bristel had actually started a blacksmith shop and could make some things out of the metal we dug out of the rubbish heaps. Anything that just couldn't be found in District 12 could be ordered from District 13 and delivered on the hovercraft that came once a week.

Haymitch wasn't happy about our new plan until we convinced him that his house would be a lot quieter now, and if it was too quiet, we could build him a new house in the new neighborhood.

"Be easier than cleaning this one," he muttered and soon he was watching over and criticizing the way we poured our new foundation.

It was amazing to have something to do. The framing was next, but first we had to start seriously dismantling Peeta's old house. That was harder than I expected since we had to do it very carefully, both to save as much drywall and wood as possible, and also to study how everything had been put together.

One thing I had been right about: the place was infested with cameras and microphones. The camera lenses were squares about an inch wide made of some sort of reflective metal. We found five of them in various corners of the ceiling, then went and found just as many in my house. I couldn't believe I never noticed them before. The ceilings were painted a gray shade that matched the metal, but the shine of them was easy to spot once you knew what you were looking for.

The microphones were tiny metal cubes and they were everywhere.

Once when I was wiping off the kitchen table I ran the cloth under the edge of the table. It caught on something. I peered under the corner and saw a microphone. Suddenly I remembered whispering to Gale as he lay on this very table: "I'm going to stay right here and cause all kinds of trouble." My stomach lurched. I had spoken almost directly into a microphone. How could I have been so careless? Had I been basically volunteering for my second trip into the arena with those words?

I ran out of the house and stood on the front walk with my hand clamped over my mouth. I didn't remember where Peeta had said he would be.

"Peeta!" I yelled between panicked breaths. He came hurrying around from the garden in the back.

"Katniss, what's wrong?"

I went to him and whispered, still afraid of being overheard: "There is a microphone. Under the corner of the kitchen table. They heard everything."

"Are you sure?"

"Come see." I took his hand, feeling I could only go back into that house if I was holding on to him.

I showed him the one I had found, under the corner of the table. He crawled under the table and pried it off with a knife. Then he saw another one at the other end of the table. We spent the day in silence, scouring both houses for microphones, scraping them off and depositing them in a bag. By the end of the day we had found more than a hundred.

From that day we did not go into either house any more than we had to. Even though there was probably no one listening any more, we felt haunted, unsafe. It was late summer and the nights were warm so we began sleeping in a tent in the open area in the center of Victor Village. I found I liked the tent. Some nights we slept under the stars and that was even better. But we slept well. The manual work all day, then making plans late into the night, wore us out. We both slept too deeply for nightmares.

One night as we lay under the stars Peeta said "Greasy Sae says we should be able to have the house habitable by the end of September, mid-October at the latest."

"We'd better," I answered. "It's going to start getting too cold for camping by October."

"Once the roof is on we can camp out in the house if we need to. The heating system will be useable in a few weeks."

"That could work," I answered.

"How about a wedding in December?" asked Peeta.

I was silent. We had done our toasting. The whole world considered us married, including me. We just hadn't had the big party where you invite everyone you know. That was the problem.

"I don't know if she'll be ready to come back here," I said. He knew who I was talking about.

"Or is it that you are not ready to see her? You are coping with being back just fine."

"She brings back so many memories. And . . . ." I couldn't say what I was thinking. My mother acted like the only daughter worth having was gone. She and I hardly even felt related to each other.

"Your mother misses you. I know she does. She is waiting for you to be the one who asks her to come back." Peeta and I had been through this discussion before.

"Why would she do that?"

"She doesn't want to intrude if you don't want her." The problem with Peeta was that he always thought the best of everyone. I actually loved that about him, especially since it had taken awhile for that part of his personality to return full time. But I wondered if it didn't keep him from understanding my mother.

"How about if I say 'maybe?' Is that good enough for now?" Peeta didn't ask for much. I hated to disappoint him. But how could we have a wedding without the whole thing reminding us all of the very public proposal, the wedding gown selection contest, the burning mockingjay gown? There was so much baggage with this topic.

"It can just be a simple, sweet wedding. You can wear the dress Annie wore. It would give everyone who has come back to the District a chance to celebrate. And maybe bring back some people who are gone."

I knew who he meant. "We can't invite him," I said.

"His whole family is here. We have to invite him." This was the only other topic that Peeta and I argued about. Even then we were still too careful with each other to seriously fight. Or maybe he was too nice. I knew that I wasn't. But he didn't understand why I never wanted to talk to Gale again. Never wanted to see him again. Never wanted to think about him again.

I had told Peeta that it was Gale who killed Prim. Of course, he didn't see it that way. He did agree that the bombs timed to go off when the rescue workers had arrived were despicable. But there were a hundred reasons why he thought I should at least talk to Gale again. He always pointed out that we had been best friends. That that was something you do not just throw away. I didn't think he would ever understand.

A wedding was something I would probably agree to eventually. But not Gale.

The next day we were both being extra nice to each other. I hated how distant I felt from Peeta after we quarreled.

"Do you have time for a walk?" he asked after breakfast. "There's something I want you to see."

I would probably have agreed anyway, but now I was willing to say 'yes' to almost anything. We walked over to the river behind the old east entrance to the coal mine.

"Look what I found," he said, pointing into the river. I looked, but had no idea what he was so excited about. The river did look a lot better than it used to, when it had been coated with a fine black layer of soot. Now that the mine was closed it was fresh and clear.

"Am I missing something?" I asked finally.

"It's the rocks." They looked like normal rocks to me. "Look closely. Do you see how some have shades of blue, some are more green, some are almost purple?"

I tilted my head and tried to see what he could see. "They are kind of pretty," I said.

"Would you like them for our fireplace?"

"Are you okay with a fireplace now?"

"Yes, now I can picture it. It'll be beautiful." Peeta's eyes focused on something only he could see. "Maybe someday we can even burn a fire in it."

I found I didn't care about actually using the fireplace, but having one would make our house feel like a real home. And I knew Peeta would make sure that it was perfect.

I had no idea how happy I was until it was gone.

The night before, I was falling asleep when the phone rang. Peeta hurried inside from the tent to answer it. I followed close behind. No one but Dr. Aurelius ever called us and he always let us know ahead of time when to expect his calls. My mind ran ahead. It must be bad news.

But Peeta was smiling. He covered the phone with one hand and said "It's Annie. It's a boy!"

"Let me talk to her," I said as I almost grabbed the phone out of his hand.

"Annie, how are you?"

"Hi, Katniss. I'm wonderful. He came this morning and he's perfect." Annie sounded a bit tired, but happy.

"How are _you_? How is he? What's his name?" I couldn't remember what were the questions you were supposed to ask someone who just had a baby.

"I'm fine. My mom is here. She was with me and she helped a lot. He's enormous, 10 pounds, 4 ounces, very healthy lungs. I named him Finnick Cresta Odair. Katniss, he looks just like Finnick. He's beautiful."

"I'm so glad, Annie," I said, but my voice was suddenly tight. "Here, Peeta wants to talk to you."

I handed him the phone. He would know what to say. I went and sat on the front steps, waiting for him. How could Annie be so brave? She sounded genuinely happy, not worried at all about how she was going to raise this baby on her own.

Peeta came out a few minutes later. "Annie says she'll bring the baby out to visit us as soon as he is big enough, well, old enough anyway, to travel. I told her about our new house. She said she wants to see it."

"I hope she will really come," I said.

"She'd have to come for a wedding."

I rolled my eyes at him, took his hand and we went back to our tent.

The next day we went to the new house. We were putting up and joining the framed out walls. Haymitch and Greasy Sae were there, along with Thom and Bristel. Haymitch and I held one wall while Thom and Bristel held the another. Greasy Sae and Peeta worked at the joint, nailing the walls together and connecting them to the wooden beams we had already attached to the foundation. The other two walls were also framed out and ready to be put up as soon as we got to them.

Suddenly, I realized that Peeta's hammer had been silent for a while. He was on the inside of the joint and Haymitch and I were on the outside of the wall so we couldn't see him.

"Peeta, is everything okay?" I called, but he didn't answer.

I eased to the edge of the wall, still making sure to hold it up. I peered around the edge and saw Peeta hunched over, leaning with his arms on his knees. My first fear was that he was losing it again.

"Are you okay?" I asked carefully. He held up one finger, asking for a moment. His eyes were calm, but tired. His face, however, was strangely gray.

"Just a minute," he whispered, "I don't feel good." And then he collapsed.

**Thanks to my fantastic reviewers:**

**SamSnead**

**November92009**

**Solaryllis**

**Catching Fire 54321**

**Analyn Lana Ruse**

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**Heart the Squid**

**wisdomgoddess26**

**Thanks to IrishLuck19 for your amazing beta work! **


	6. The 425

**The 425**

"Soldier Hawthorne of GDU reporting, sir." Captain Brighton continued whatever he was writing. I stood frozen at attention. Sooner or later he would have to notice I was here.

"GDU?" he asked, still writing.

"The Grave Digging Unit, sir. I understand you have gone to a bit of trouble to get me leave to return to headquarters."

"Yes, just a few minutes, Soldier, I have to finish this up."

I took a deep breath and wondered what he was going to spring on me this time. The last time I had been in this office he had talked me into being interviewed on a number of television shows. They were an assault of blinding lights and nodding blondes:

"_So Soldier Hawthorne, are you saying that Katniss Everdeen was traumatized by the idea of continuing the Hunger Games?"_

"_Ms. Everdeen and all the other living victors were forced to vote on whether the Games should continue. Most of them had been thrown into the Arena, not once but twice, and had had to kill to stay alive. Then Coin tried use them to avoid responsibility for continuing that barbarity. How many of us could handle that kind of manipulation?" _

"_But she assassinated the President."_

"_She killed someone who had named herself as President. Who elected Coin?"_

"_I take it then that you are in favor of the district commanders' plan to have a full public election to choose a new president."_

"_Of course. Why shouldn't the people of Panem get to vote to choose who will head their new government?"_

A few people may have bought into the insanity defense. But more were just horrified to find out that the horror had almost gone on, without their consent, with new management and new victims.

I played only a small part in the drama, but it was the least I could do after what I had taken from her. The problem was that the news stations did not have very many widely recognized soldiers they could interview. They wanted me to discuss any issue even remotely connected with the army. Being away from all of that had been one of the advantages of GDU.

Captain Brighton finally set down his pen. "Ah, yes, Hawthorne. I hear you have become an exemplary grave-digger. Your company has the highest number of completed burials in the entire unit. And you have achieved a consistent level of appropriate decorum." He pushed an enormous stack of papers to the side.

I didn't respond. There was no question.

"I will ask you straight out. Do you want to remain in GDU?"

That was a question and I wasn't sure of the answer. I had gone to GDU to be away from killing, from the chance to hurt anyone. I'd thought that among the dead there could be no more violence. I was wrong.

Grave digging wasn't the problem. Sure, my hands had been covered with blisters at first. My arms, back and neck had ached for a few weeks. But I got stronger with time, although I could never keep up with Soldier Marik Delmar. He was amazing. He wasn't that tall, but he was the thickest human I had ever seen. His biceps were as big as his head, which was the same circumference as his neck. His hands were so bulky they looked like they had been stung by tracker jacks. He could dig day after day without tiring. His iron shovel had become part of him.

In fact, he could keep a steady pace while singing in a deep melancholy voice. He sang songs I didn't know, about a chariot, about a river. The songs seemed right for the work we were doing.

Working with him had kept me sane. I could handle dealing with bodies. I could work through the smell. It was the demented co-workers I was tired of. Most in GDU were there as punishment. Some were just undisciplined, but others were bullies, vicious, sadistic. Marik and I had agreed to stick together, along with a couple of soldiers from District 1, Copper and Shine, who just wanted to finish their time and get out.

I still had nightmares, where I was the monster, doing horrific things to people. Only now the ones I tore apart, butchered in a hundred different ways, were the jerks from GDU. Did the dreams keep me from lashing out in real life or did they mean the monster was resurging?

Had I had enough?

"What else is available, sir?"

"I am recommending you to be Squad Leader, for one of the squads assigned to the clearance of the former command headquarters, sometimes referred to as the 'Nut.'" He looked me straight in the eye.

I looked away from him. "I am not prepared for a leadership position, sir."

"It is my understanding that you have been, at least unofficially, directing the activities of your group," he responded. Someone had ratted me out.

"Sir, there were only four in that group, nothing like a whole squad," I noted.

"A squad has far fewer members than the 800 you marshaled out of District 12," he retorted. I wondered how much of my history Captain Brighton knew. "However, part of the reason I want you reassigned to headquarters is that I have an additional assignment for you. It is optional."

"Sir?" I winced. Not again.

"No, not another media appearance," said Captain Brighton, correctly reading my face. "I am on a Commission which will be drafting proposed Rules for Combat Deportment. I will also be appointing two combat-experienced soldiers for the Commission. I have reviewed your record and I may appoint you." Captain Brighton acted as though everything he had just said was perfectly clear. But I had no idea what he was talking about.

"Excuse me, sir. You are on a Commission to do what?"

He looked up and smiled. "Soldier, at ease. Take a seat."

I sat on the front edge of one of the chairs behind me.

"Many people feel that things were done in the course of the War which offend a normal sense of honor, fairness and decency. Some feel that such actions were unavoidable. Others believe that it may be possible to draft a set of appropriate rules to guide the conduct of war. The purpose of this Commission is to attempt to put together such a set of rules, which the Assembly can then debate and consider." He paused to take a breath.

I jumped in. "Sir, I am the worst possible choice for such a commission."

"Indeed? I believe your time in GDU should have introduced you to some who would be worse on such a commission than yourself." I wasn't sure if he was being funny or not. I couldn't help but imagine the rules, simple but brutal, that some of my fellow grave diggers seemed to prefer.

"If you are a poor choice for such a commission I am sure that I will not eventually choose you. For now I am merely considering you. For your part, all I ask is that you study these historical codes of warfare. Then report back to me."

"There have been codes before? Written codes? Did everyone agree on them?" The questions leapt into my mind.

"So the subject holds some interest for you," he stated. Had I just walked into a trap?

"Let's get back to the idea of making you a Squad Leader. I am looking for someone with leadership potential, which you have accidentally shown in GDU and District 12. For this particular squad I also need experience in various types of ordnance and other explosives. Your work in the mines of District 12 gave you experience with explosives. Your time in the District 13 weapons office has given you an awareness of several different types of ordnance. You are an ideal candidate for this position."

I slumped back into the chair. "Sir, I do not wish to be in any position where I can be a danger to anyone else. And I do not trust my own judgment, which I believe makes me unsuitable for any leadership position."

"You never fail to be interesting, Soldier Hawthorne. As for being a danger to anyone else, I will be blunt with you. This is a moderately dangerous assignment. Dynamite is significantly more volatile than the dead. However, the primary danger will be to yourself. The unit will be comprised of specially trained volunteers who will all have chosen to engage with such danger. It is not likely that you will encounter any enemy combatants, nor civilian by-standers, as the Nut is abandoned. As for your leadership abilities, I find that too much confidence in one's own judgment can be as significant an obstacle as not enough, depending on the personalities involved." Once again he paused, but this time I did not know what to say.

"I believe that my knowledge of both explosives and other ordnance is insufficient," I responded after a few moments of silence.

"I absolutely agree, soldier. That is why I will be conducting your training myself. Report at 0730 tomorrow to the firing range. And this is the first portion of the military codes I would like you to review." He pushed one of the huge stacks of papers on his desk toward me. Then the phone on his desk rang. Before he answered it he said "And take another shower. You still smell of the grave," then waved me away with his hand as he turned to the phone.

That night I lay awake. I had about a year left of my army service. The situation in GDU had been bearable lately. I liked working with Marik. Shine and Copper were decent enough guys who had been sentenced to 6 months grave digging for hoarding. They were from District 1 and weren't used to the army's strict rules about food. But their time would be up by the time I returned. Many of the others in that unit were much more interested in trouble making than grave digging.

Marik and I could watch each other's backs, but if I stayed with that unit sooner or later the brutality around me would make me lose my temper.

I had resolved not to damage anyone. This was more complicated than I had expected. Was staying out of trouble enough? What about standing by and watching as others were brutalized? Surely that made me, if not a monster, at least a coward and a monster's accomplice. Like the Peacekeepers who stood by while I was whipped. If Katniss hadn't been brave enough to defy them I probably would have died.

But maybe I did not have good enough judgment to be the one to step in. Did my evil deeds mean that I had no right to be anyone but the coward now?

Still it didn't take a genius to spot the bullies in the graveyards.

I remembered what my mom had said: I should resolve never to do evil things again and, if I could, repair the damage. Cleaning up the Nut would be a small way to repair some damage I had caused. But I would also get a good look at how bad the destruction had been.

I had a feeling there would be nightmares tonight. I decided to take a look at the stack of books and papers that Captain Brighton had given me.

I finally fell asleep somewhere in the middle of Sparta, an ancient country peopled with Careers. I woke with a start. Another nightmare, another restless night. I had been just about to pound someone's head with my shovel. I groaned. The sun was well up and I had wanted to get to the firing range early. I had a couple of requests for Captain Brighton.

When I arrived I was only about 10 minutes early. Captain Brighton had ear protection on and was firing his service revolver repeatedly at one of the targets. I waited nearby, unable to get his attention. I found my own ear protection and chose a gun off of the rack. Others began arriving and doing the same.

At last he removed the headphones and saw me standing there. "Hawthorne," he said. "Made your decision yet?"

"Almost sir. I had a couple of questions," I responded.

"Fire away," he said, smiling at his own joke.

"Will you remove me as platoon leader if I show a lack of – the words you used were: honor, fairness and decency?"

He raised his eyebrows at me. "I can't guarantee that. You might have a lapse of judgment yet still be the best candidate I have for the position. I can guarantee that I will not tolerate any such lapses without serious consequences."

That might be good enough. "Is the volunteer quota full for this platoon?"

"Almost," he replied. "Why? Did you have someone in mind?"

"Yes, sir. There is a Soldier, Marik Delmar, in GDU. He seems to be a fine soldier, competent and intelligent, but stranded in grave digging because he is the best grave digger they have ever had," I answered.

"Do you mean that they are not allowing him to be promoted because he suits their needs?"

"I have no direct proof of that, sir." I knew I had to be careful here. I didn't want to make official charges against the GDU captain.

"Does he have any experience with explosives or ordnance?"

"Not that I know of, sir. But he is unflappable and the strongest human I've ever known."

"I will take a discerning look into his record," he said. "Now do some target practice before we get started."

It had been a while since I had shot a gun. One of the soldiers was using a Peacekeeper's machine gun. Its sound jolted me back to the Capitol, to Katniss opening the door for me with the gun we had stolen from a Peacekeeper. I shook my head. I needed to clear my mind and focus.

My gun was the standard rifle issued to all new soldiers in District 13. My first round was all over the place. I reloaded and tried to recapture the intensity I used to have in training. I would picture President Snow's face on the target. Now that didn't work. I thought about imagining the face of one of the GDU jerks but that didn't feel right either.

I remembered before all of that and imagined that I was trying for a clean kill of a squirrel, through the eye. Aiming a gun wasn't that different from an arrow. I hadn't had time for breakfast and my hunger helped take me back. My second round was much better. By my third round I could almost taste roasted squirrel.

I decided that, if I was going to be the squad leader, I should take a look at the others, start to get to know their styles. I was standing behind the first bay watching a serious young soldier with brown hair and a scar on his face. He was a crack shot, very methodical, emptying each round into the target in exactly the same way. A voice behind me announced: "Soldier Jaspar Redstone, District 2." I would need to remember that Captain Brighton could sneak up on me, at least during gunfire.

"Time to get to know Squad 425," he said.

The soldier in the second bay was the complete opposite of Redstone. He had white blond hair, a bit longer than regulation, and 5 earrings in a row down the edge of each ear. He was the one with the peacekeeper machine gun, which he fired with flashy abandon, hitting the target regularly only because it fired so many rounds. Captain Brighton shook his head and said "Soldier Primo Mercurius, Capitol."

At the next bay Captain Brighton said "Soldier Reed Groves, District 7." He was a tall, sturdy looking soldier, with light brown hair. He was firing a gun I had never seen before. I tried to remember if I had ever seen Johanna use one, but I didn't think she had. He shot reasonably well, nothing spectacular.

The next guy over was using the same District 13 service rifle I had. He looked familiar; I must have met him in District 13. He was a very consistent shot, nearly always hitting the target, if not on center. "This is Soldier Benjamin Walker, District 13," said Captain Brighton. "Do you know him?"

"I think we've met." We must have had some of the same training classes.

The soldier in the fifth bay was black. "Soldier Wick Chervil, District 11," said the captain. That explained his gaunt build. He held his gun awkwardly, like he had never been properly trained, but he was still reasonably accurate. He gave me a quick smile when he saw me watching him.

Captain Brighton flashed the red light which signaled the end of target practice. He asked us to meet him in a small classroom down the hall. As we walked down the hall he said to me "By the way, I am promoting you to Sergeant, as of now."

In the classroom he called me up front and introduced me as Squad Leader of this newly formed Special Duty Squad 425. I detected some glimmers of recognition from the soldiers, but no one was obnoxious about it.

The captain would be conducting our initial training: a review of the basics, from gun control to squad movement, in the mornings, with more specific ordnance and explosives training in the afternoons, some of which would be taught by experts. Physical conditioning would consist of a squad 5 mile run every morning at 0600 then a time for individual training every afternoon after our last class. Training would last for 6 weeks. Those who successfully completed training would begin our assignment at the Nut. I wouldn't be fully in charge of the squad until training was over. Which was fine by me.

There were only 6 of us, including me, at training, but the captain said that he anticipated up to 4 additional soldiers joining in the next week. I wondered if he was including Marik in that number.

There were thick notebooks marked "Training Manual, Squad 425" on each desk. He asked us to open them to the section on "Gun Maintenance." As soon as our lecture was finished we'd be assigned our duty weapon. We were to keep it with us or under our personal control at all times. If it was out of our control, for any time at all, we were to do a full weapon inspection to check for damage or sabotage. He called Chervil up front to show the methods of sabotage he knew. Chervil had worked in the underground resistance in 8 and showed that sabotage could range from sophisticated tampering with the firing pin to simply stuffing an explosive deep into the gun barrel.

He then directed us to the gun diagrams in our manual. By the next day we would be required to be able to identify and label 5 different models of pistols and 6 types of rifles.

We were beginning to copy down the labels onto the first diagram when three Peacekeepers charged into the room waving machine guns. One yelled "Hands in the air or die!"

I had been sitting in the front corner of the room and had heard the door start to open. I saw the white of the Peacekeepers' uniform, the black of a raised gun barrel and jumped behind my desk. As I crouched there I cursed myself for not having a gun with me. I pulled out the hunting knife I always kept strapped to my leg. I could get one of them, but that left two more.

To my left I saw that Chervil was also behind his desk and he had a gun out. Mercurius was standing in the middle of the room with his hands up. He was the only one. I looked at Chervil and motioned with my head that I was going to move right to draw their fire. I could take one with my knife, dive for the table in middle, and hope that he could take down the other two.

I was about to move when Captain Brighton's voice called out "Soldiers, hold your fire." He walked to the middle of the room, hands gesturing for us to stop. The Peacekeepers put down their weapons and took off their helmets.

"Thank you for your assistance," he said to them. "That's all for now." They left the room.

"Observations?" asked the captain.

"I should've had a gun," I said.

"Mercurius was in the way," said Groves. He was putting the flag pole that he had grabbed back into its stand.

"Mercurius was dead meat," said Walker.

"These desks are lousy," said Chervil. I looked over. The top of the desk he had knocked over had come off. He held it up in his hands. There was some nervous laughter. We all got up and got back into our chairs. I angled mine for a better view of the door. My heart wasn't back to normal yet.

"None of you have studied up on Captain Brighton and his methods," said Mercurius from his chair in the middle of the room.

"And how exactly did you study up on me?" asked the captain.

"I spent last night at Nick's, asking questions," replied Mercurius. "Nick's" was a bar in town, a soldiers' hang out. I'd never been there. "I would've known anyway. No way a group of armed Peacekeepers would get by base security. And why would they target a classroom of trainees?"

"Because they heard about us at Nick's?" said Chervil. Everyone laughed. But I was disgusted with myself for not seeing that it couldn't have been a real attack. Hell's teeth. I was too trigger happy, even with no trigger to pull. I'd almost thrown my knife into some innocent kid's neck. They were just helping with our training. I needed to calm down and use my head.

The day was exhausting. Captain Brighton covered a lot and we had to keep up. As Squad Leader I needed to know all of the material inside and out. Then we had a work out in the weight room at the end of the day. Everyone was showing off. I was sorry Marik wasn't there to put us all in our places. But my day wasn't over.

Captain Brighton gave us all an off-base pass to go to dinner together in town. Of course we went to Nick's. I wasn't used to paying that much money for food. But tonight it was part of my new job.

'Nick's' specialized in meat and beer. As we joined the crowd of soldiers in line the smell of dinner made my mouth water. The large and busy man behind the counter greeted several of the others as he gave us our food. I found a big table over in a corner.

Soldier Redstone sat down next to me and said "I met your cousin once."

"She's not my cousin."

"Oh," he said. "I thought at least that part was true."

I shook my head and asked "When did you meet her?"

"Here in District 2. I was the one in the square. She was talking to me when she got shot," he said, dropping his eyes.

I misunderstood. "You shot Katniss?" I said a little too loudly.

"No, I didn't shoot her. She talked to me." There was a pause, then he added "But it was a friend of mine who shot her."

"Any idea why he had to go and shoot her? She was unarmed," I was still having trouble keeping my voice down.

"He was protecting me. You would have to see the propos we'd seen to understand. We were all terrified of her."

"So am I," I said, "but I didn't shoot her." He looked puzzled, so I added "That was a joke. So were the propos made in the Capitol? What were they like?"

"Maybe we can find some in the Nut. I realized later that they only showed her face at the beginning. Then she would slip on this creepy mask and start shooting people with flaming arrows, or gutting them with this huge knife or . . . . They were gruesome. But the worst part was they said she could hypnotize you with her voice. They'd show all these rebels marching around following her orders with this dead look in their eyes." He sat there and stared at his plate. He seemed to have lost interest in eating.

I wasn't eating either. All I could say was "I had no idea."

The others had all joined us by then. Soldier Chervil was on my other side. "So if she's not your cousin, what is she?" he asked with a leering smile.

"She was my friend. We don't talk anymore," I wanted to end this discussion.

"Lady trouble," said Mercurius. "Don't worry she'll be back. At least they always come back to me."

"Wonder if those count as ladies though," said Chervil under his breath. Everyone laughed.

They all started giving Mercurius harassment about his supposed prowess with all women. I breathed a sigh of relief that they were off of me for a while. Redstone wasn't jumping into the discussion about Mercurius' love life. I asked him quietly "Was I in the propos?"

"A little bit. Enough that I recognized you. But only at the beginning. The part with the mask was always just the Mockingjay," said Redstone.

"How weird. Why didn't you shoot her then?"

"She didn't have on the mask. She looked me in the eye. She was young, just a girl. I asked her to give me a reason why I shouldn't shoot her and she just said 'I can't.' Her voice was nothing like the voice in the propos. And I knew she wasn't the one in the propos. They said she ended up losing her spleen," he said.

"Yeah, she was pretty bruised up, but she recovered." I couldn't discuss Katniss anymore.

"Sorry for bringing the whole thing up," he said. We went back to listening to Mercurius and Chervil. They were witty, but I couldn't shake a heavy feeling.

I ate my dinner and drank the beer, but it didn't help. I decided to make it an early night. The Squad would get to know each other better without me there, both because I was the leader and because I was a grouch.

I stood up. "Gentlemen, good night. I am not much of a night owl, but don't feel like you have to leave just because I am turning in."

They all said good bye, but no one else got up.

I was almost to the door when a red-headed girl jumped up from a table nearby. "Gale Hawthorne?" she called and I turned to look at her. She was a lot better looking than any of the army girls in Nick's that night. Or maybe it was that she wasn't in uniform and had a headful of flaming red curls. She was hard to miss.

Before I could answer she was next to me, smelling like some kind of flower and looking up at me with wide eyes. "You're even better looking in real life than on T.V.," she said.

I wanted to get back to the barracks, but her sudden attention froze me in my tracks. I didn't want to be rude, but . . . The redhead grabbed me and pinned a kiss on my lips. A flash blinded me, then she ran out of the bar with another girl who had just taken a picture of us.

They were gone. They had their picture. And I had the feeling I'd been set up.

**Thanks to my great beta, IrishLuck19. I have no idea how you have time for it all.**

**Thanks wonderful reviewers. You make my heart sing:**

**Wisdomgoddess26 – a fellow early riser.**

**November92009 (aka HopeNeverDies)**

**Heart the Squid**

**Solaryllis**

**MountainAir**

**KidsInLovex**

**EchoDeltaNine**

**Analyn Lana Ruse**

**Lostliveson4eva**

**Private Tucker **

**TheGreenBook**

**If you liked it – please review. If you hated it – please review. If you had no idea what was going on – please let me know.**


	7. Heart Problems

**Disclaimer – SC created and owns HG, CF and MJ, the world of Panem, and all of her marvelous characters. **

**Heart Problems**

"He's got a pulse," said Haymitch in a measured, business-like voice. "Thom, help me carry him. Sae, hurry, make sure the hovercraft doesn't leave. Katniss, go grab your stuff."

"I'm not leaving him."

Haymitch made an exasperated sound. "Okay, tell Bristel what to get. Let's go."

Thankfully the supply hovercraft was in town the day that Peeta collapsed. Within minutes we were on it and headed for District 13 and some serious doctors. Peeta was conscious, but miserable on the flight over. He couldn't breathe right. He was so weak it was hard for him to lift his hands.

"Katniss, I'm so sorry," he said in a voice that scared me. It sounded like he was using the last bit of air in his lungs. "I'll get better soon. We'll get our house built."

"Don't talk," I said. "Don't worry about the house. Let's get you to a doctor and find out what happened."

But the doctors had very little to say. They hooked him up to an IV and tried to make him comfortable. A nurse came in and said she would need some blood samples. She left a tray full of needles and syringes and then stepped away. Peeta looked at me in panic. I checked his eyes and I could see he was slipping away. He hadn't done this for months, but the extra stress was probably triggering it.

"In the cave," he whispered, "You laughed while you injected me with something that felt like acid. Real or not real?"

"Not real," I answered. "You had blood poisoning. I injected you with the medicine you needed." He nodded. He seemed to remember the truth.

"In the Capitol, they used so many needles. Real or not real?" he asked, looking at the wall.

"I don't know," I said.

"It doesn't matter. Just stay with me. Talk to me while she takes the blood."

"Of course," I said. "Let's talk about our new house. What color should we paint the living room?"

He squeezed my hand when the nurse came back into the room, but he kept his eyes on my face and he stayed with me. I found that focusing on Peeta was helping me, too, although I was careful not to watch the needles bite into his skin. It wouldn't help Peeta if I couldn't hold it together. The nurse took so many samples I wanted to chase her away, to tell her to leave him some blood. He needed it. His face was still so gray.

Peeta ate only a few crackers for dinner. I had no appetite either. I ate some crackers to encourage Peeta, but my mouth was so dry it was hard to swallow. I stayed by Peeta's bed all night, on an amazingly uncomfortable chair, resting my head on a pillow next to his. He wanted me to sleep on the bed next to him, but I was afraid that I'd crush him. He seemed so fragile.

In the morning I greeted the doctor hopefully, wanting some answers. But instead, he wanted to run some more tests. In fact, he wanted to send Peeta to the Capitol where he said that they had better equipment, as well as Peeta's medical records. I could tell by the look on Peeta's face that he hated that idea so I told the doctor flatly 'no.'

"We'll run what tests we can here, then. I can get his files sent from the Capitol later today," the doctor replied.

There were two days of tests which grew more and more horrible. They hooked Peeta up to all sorts of monitors. They x-rayed him. They wanted him to walk on a treadmill. Actually they wanted him to run, but when it looked like he might not survive the walking they didn't push it. They had him blow into another monitor. Peeta tried as hard as he could. I wished he wouldn't work so hard. They took more blood while I held his hand. They put him through a giant tube that somehow looked inside of him. When he was done, they wheeled him back up to his room. Once in bed he fell asleep, exhausted.

I couldn't sleep. I couldn't eat. I could barely think.

Then a nurse came in and said that I needed to meet with someone, I didn't catch who. She had a young assistant walk me through the labyrinth of halls to an office.

I sat down and a woman handed me a pile of forms to fill out, then went back to doing something else. I was amazed at how hard it was to fill out the forms, how many questions I couldn't answer even though I knew Peeta better than anyone else did. "Address?" – I skipped that one at first. I couldn't write "building a house near the meadow." "Employment?" – I skipped that one, although I thought that "building a house near the meadow," was close on that one, too. "Employer?" – for that I wrote "none." "Military Service?" I finally just wrote "Yes."

I needed to come up with something. So I said that he was a baker, self-employed, who lived in Victor's Village in District 12. It wasn't quite true, but it was close.

Then there were questions about me. I said that I was his wife, a self-employed business woman. I thought that sounded better than 'I trade squirrels and door knobs for building materials.'

I didn't have many answers at all for the questions about his current condition. But I did have lots of information about his previous injuries: tracker stings, knife wounds, blood infection, leg amputation, electric shock, gas attacks, massive burns. I had never thought about how many of them there were. And some I didn't have any details about - torture in the Capitol. I shook my head to clear the thoughts.

When I gave the lady the forms she skimmed through them. She frowned. Something I had written apparently offended her. She had the typical District 13 look, straight gray hair, pale gray eyes.

She looked up at me and asked "No employer?"

"No."

"No other insurance?"

"No."

"Is his current condition related to military service?"

It took me a minute to make sense of her words. "I don't know," was all I could answer.

"We'll have to wait for a more complete diagnosis then before we can discuss an appropriate payment plan."

Now I felt like I was the one who would turn gray and collapse. I knew that District 13 was different now that the war was over. I knew being a Victor no longer meant a life paid for by others. But I had no idea how I could pay for any of this. Even a price list would mean nothing to me, unless it was translated into how many squirrels I could trade for each item. Who was I kidding? These weren't going to be squirrels. They would be deer, lynx pelts, maybe I could bring down a bear and make a dent in it.

The lady had turned her back to me, so I left. I wanted to look for a closet I could hide in, but I needed to be there when Peeta woke up.

The next day we started to get some answers to our questions, but it wasn't long before I wished we hadn't.

Basically, Peeta's heart was failing. So far his heart had stopped at least four times. Each time had caused permanent damage to his heart tissue. I had known about the first three. I remembered seeing them restart his heart twice after the first Games. The third time was during the second Games when Finnick had revived him. I had never worried about it. If the Capitol could make my damaged ear hear again they could surely fix Peeta, too.

But they hadn't.

And it got worse. They reviewed the medical records from what they called "his time in custody in the Capitol" – the records of his torture. Apparently his heart had stopped there again. I didn't ask for any details. In fact, just looking at the manila folder made my stomach clench. But Peeta remembered it. I supposed that would be hard to forget.

"So what can you do? What is the treatment?" I asked the doctor.

The doctor spoke to Peeta. "The first thing that we can do is try some different medications. They will not repair the damaged heart tissue, but they might help your heart to work more efficiently. We might also be able to bring in a specialist from the Capitol. They have been able to do wonderful things for heart failure in the Capitol, although I don't know if . . . ." He paused, unsure about something.

Just then a nurse came in to take Peeta's blood pressure, his temperature, all the things they checked every few hours.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I'll come back later," she said, starting to back out of the room.

"No, that's fine. We were just finishing up," the doctor said. I got the feeling he was relieved to have a distraction, to not have to finish what he had been unable to say.

While the nurse was busy with Peeta I slipped out of the room and followed the doctor. "Excuse me, sir? Would you say that his heart . . . problems," I couldn't say 'failure,' "are the result of military service?" Everything he said had sounded not only uncertain, but also expensive. We needed to be able to try whatever it would take to get Peeta better.

"Um, I'm not familiar with his military record. That determination is not my decision. You will have to talk to the accounting department." With that he hurried off.

I leaned against the wall. This might not be easy. My mother would cut people a break if they had trouble paying for the medicine they needed. I had a feeling that they wouldn't be so understanding here.

I heard Peeta call my name and went back into the room.

"How're you doing?" Peeta asked me.

"You are the one we need to be worried about."

"Yes, but _you_ are the one _I_ am worried about," he said. "You look unhappy and pale."

"Of course, I am unhappy," I said, a little too harshly. "We have to fix your broken heart."

He took my hand and kissed the palm. "My heart is not broken. My body has some problems, but my heart is happy as long as you are here."

I couldn't believe he could be so patient with me, even though I had snapped at him. "My heart will be happier if we can get you healed up and out of here," I said stroking his face.

"It sounds like we will just have to find the right medicine. And when the heart doctor from the Capitol gets here we will talk to him about what else can be done. Now, what do you want for dinner? And this time let's try to actually eat something." Peeta handed me the menu form.

I managed to choke down some chicken stew and mashed potatoes, but I ate it just to humor Peeta, to get him to eat something. I had a feeling that he was only eating his to humor me, too.

After we ate Peeta looked tired. Then the phone rang. "Mrs. Mellark, this is Mayvene, downstairs. I have your husband's updated forms here. You'll need to come down so that we can arrange your payment plan."

"Okay," I said mechanically and hung up. "Peeta, go ahead, take a nap. I'll be right back." I gave him a kiss on the forehead, then headed to accounting.

The meeting with Mayvene did not last long. She told me that Peeta's injuries were not related to military service, that we had no employers or insurance to cover the cost. She gave me one sheet which was a bill for our costs already incurred. Another was a list of price ranges for the various medications and procedures which Peeta might need. The numbers were not translated into squirrels. But I could tell they were very large. Too big for me ever to pay.

The last sheet that Mayvene gave me had 3 different payment schedules depending on what treatments we choose. They ranged from impossible to horrifying. I thanked Mayvene and left her office. I had the feeling that she enjoyed her job.

In the elevator I leaned my head on the wall behind me. Again, what I wanted to do was find a place to hide. Or better yet, somehow get upstairs, outside. But I couldn't do that. Peeta needed me. I had to stay for him.

That night I had an idea. We were going to have to come up with some money. Not squirrels, but cold hard cash. One of the nurses, Cloy, seemed more friendly than the others. I pulled her aside.

"I used to live here in District 13," I started, but she stopped me.

"Of course, you did. I know who you are. You are the Mockingjay. You have no idea what you meant to us."

I couldn't get used to people knowing who I was. Living back home in District 12 I was just a normal person, not a freak. Still, I smiled and said "Thank you."

I took a deep breath. "They have changed the way things run here in District 13. Now that you have to pay for things, is there a place where you go to trade?"

"I don't ever go there, but my brother does. It is above-ground. But you aren't going to go there are you? My brother says it is a bit rough." Cloy seemed seriously concerned.

"A friend of mine wanted to know where it is," I lied.

"I'm not sure. They are building a lot of new things up there. There is an area they call the "Row" and there are people there who trade. I can ask my brother where it is for . . . your friend."

"Thanks, that would be great. I'm not sure if they are even going to go, but I just wanted to know." I went back into the room.

Slowly, I made a mental list of the things I could trade: my locket, my pearl and my Mockingjay pin. All of them were worth something just as jewelry. But all of them could be worth more to someone who had a thing about the Hunger Games or the Mockingjay. Of course, that someone needed to still have some money to spend. I had a feeling that life had changed for a lot of the Hunger Games fans.

Peeta and I had been keeping most of our things in duffel bags in the tent before we left District 12. It helped that neither one of us had much stuff. Since Bristel had just grabbed both bags we both had most of our belongings with us in the hospital. The little bag that held my valuables was down at the bottom of my duffel.

I thought of something else that I had that I could trade. I had the bags of cameras and microphones that I had taken from the old houses. That wouldn't even require a Mockingjay fan. But I couldn't think of anything anyone could want those for that wasn't a bit dodgy.

I fell asleep feeling a bit of hope for at least beginning to pay the hospital bills.

In the morning I began to see the many problems with my plan. District 13 was not the place to trade Mockingjay stuff. Here people were very practical. One of the traders would snap up my stuff for nothing, then take it to the Capitol and make a nice profit. Also, the things would be more valuable if the buyer knew they came from me. That would mean that they weren't copies. They were the real thing. That was particularly true of the pearl, which was the one thing I would find difficult to lose.

Peeta had to go retake the test where he had to go into the long white tube. He swore that he wasn't claustrophobic and it didn't bother him at all. It would have bothered me. In fact, it did bother me, but I went down with him and stayed in the waiting room.

An older lady was also waiting there. As usual, most of the people who were getting the same tests as Peeta were much older. She gave me one of those small smiles that said "We are both going to sit here and be miserable. We might as well be nice to each other."

I was bored and I picked up a magazine that was sitting there. It was a trashy thing - "Panem Circus." When I looked at the cover I dropped the magazine like it was a snake. There on the front was a screaming headline: "Hawthorne Finds the Sweet Life in District 2." I could barely see Gale as he was kissing a redhead with huge hair, but I could tell it was him.

I folded my arms and turned away from the magazine. The lady looked at me and shook her head. "I saw that article about your cousin. Who would've thought?"

"He's not like that," I said defensively.

"Honey, they are all like that when they get the chance," she said, shaking her head. "Just a bunch of tomcats."

I got up and went into the hall to pace in privacy. It didn't make any difference. In fact, knowing what he was up to would just make it easier to forget him. Give me a new reason not to want to remember him. As if I needed any more reason.

I went back into the waiting room. I sat down and stared at the clock. Then I had a terrible thought. If I tried to sell my Mockingjay stuff someone could go straight to the Capitol's gossip magazines and get big money for the scoop. I could just see the headline "Mockingjay Broke: Sells Jewelry to Save Lover's Life."

I could never let that happen. It would kill Peeta and that would sort of defeat the purpose. I could not sell my Mockingjay things.

My last idea, my only idea, was gone.

When Peeta was done I followed as they wheeled him back to the room. He had fallen asleep. I sat next to his bed, my legs pulled up onto my chair. I wrapped my arms around my own legs and wished I could just disappear. I was useless. I had no more ideas, no way to get Peeta what he needed.

Sometime later I had to wake Peeta since the cardiac specialist from the Capitol had arrived. He shook Peeta's hand and started to talk. But I couldn't focus on what he was saying. Did it matter? Whatever he could do, it was going to be expensive.

Peeta talked to him for a long time, taking notes. He seemed so hopeful. It was horrible. He didn't know that we would never be able to do any of the things the doctor was talking about.

After the doctor left I just sat there, still curled up on my chair. I didn't know what to say to Peeta.

He broke the silence. "Do you remember back in District 11 when I was mad at you and Haymitch because you hadn't told me what was going on?"

"Yes," I said, not looking at him.

"I feel like that again. Something is going on and you are not telling me." He didn't sound mad. He sounded hurt. I looked at him. I didn't know what to say, how to explain to him why I couldn't tell him. "I . . . ."

"You are trying to protect me somehow," he said.

"No. Yes. I don't want to make you worry," I finally put it into words.

"That's not working. I am worried, but I don't even know what I am worried about. Think about what if you hadn't been there when I collapsed. What if I wouldn't tell you what had happened because I didn't want you to worry? What if I made you leave the room every time the doctors came in and tried to act like everything was okay? Would that be alright with you?"

I had to say "No."

Peeta took my hand. "Katniss, we have to be in this together. We have to share good and bad. You know as much as I know about what is going on with me. What is bothering you so much?"

So I told him. I felt like once the first words were out the rest came pouring out in a jumble. I told him everything, about Mayvene, about my idea to trade away my jewelry, even about the magazine cover with Gale. I must've been hard to understand because I cried quite a bit, too. When I was done, when I had told him it was hopeless and I didn't know what we could do to save him, I just put my head on his shoulder and kept crying.

I felt awful that he was so sick and yet he was the one comforting me. At first, he just held me and stroked my hair, told me not to cry. But then he started talking about what we could do.

"Look, the first thing we need to find out is what counts as military service. I want to give it another shot, talking to this Mayvene. Maybe we can find a soft spot in her heart."

I thought that was impossible, but then I realized that if anyone could do it Peeta could. I hadn't even argued with her.

Peeta called downstairs and asked if Mayvene could come upstairs and talk to us in his room. When he got off the phone he said to me "This is only where we start. If we can't change her mind then we will come up with something else. We've survived worse than this. We just need to stay together."

I felt like a vice had been taken off my chest. I could breathe again. "I'm so sorry I didn't tell you before."

"It makes me feel useful. Not just a lump on a bed," he replied.

"Wait and see how useful you feel after chatting with Mayvene."

It was more than an hour before Mayvene came up. While we were waiting Peeta and I discussed what the doctor from the Capitol, Dr. Adrian, had said. It sounded like we were just going to have to keep trying different things and see how well his heart reacted to them.

Mayvene greeted us with "This is highly irregular. I do not usually come up to the patient rooms. We usually have the patients' families resolve the payment issues so as not to unduly stress the patients." She gave me just a slight glance, but it was withering.

"Thank you for making an exception for us. I want to be part of the discussion about how we are going to get this covered." Peeta was turning on the charm. "I particularly had some questions about the definition of military service. Mine was a bit . . . irregular."

"Well, I have already fully reviewed your military file. There is no record of that you entered the service prior to . . . October 4th when you arrived in District 13. In fact, I don't have any signed induction forms even then, but it doesn't matter since your last adverse heart episode was clearly before your arrival in District 13, way back on September 20. As I noted on the forms I gave Mrs. Mellark, we will need to reach some sort of agreement in the next 48 hours. I think that should answer your questions." She turned toward the door.

"Actually, I had some requests. I'd like a copy of my files, including my military file, and a copy of the definitions you use for military service." I was amazed. The charm had gone out of his voice. I remembered a few times before when Peeta had shown the steel behind his smile.

"I'll see what I can do," Mayvene said. I didn't feel like we were going to get what we needed from her.

"Would it help if I talked to your supervisor?" Peeta asked. We all knew he wasn't just offering to be nice.

"No, I'll be able to take care of it," she said, her jaw rigid. She turned brusquely and left.

After she left Peeta said "I see what you mean. She's not going to do anything for us without a fight. Maybe we should get some help. What about your mother? She's opening a hospital in District 4. She knows how hospitals run."

"No, my mother knows the healing side of hospitals. She's not going to be good at dealing with bureaucracy," I said with a sigh.

"Probably not, although you do need to call her. She needs to know where we are, what's going on," Peeta said. I knew he was right.

I twisted my braid around my finger. Peeta had a point. We had faced worse than this, although at least in the arena there was the chance that a silver parachute would drop down on us and give us some relief. I caught my breath and looked up at Peeta.

"What about Haymitch?"

* * *

**Thanks reviewers:**

**KidsInLovex**

**Wisdomgoddess26**

**EchoDeltaNine**

**Solaryllis**

**Alena Ruse – fka Analyn Lana Ruse**

**Heart the Squid**

**Isabugg**

**Private Tucker (who btw recommended some changes to "Monster" – anyone who is interested can check out the revised version and let me know what you think.)**


	8. The Surface

**Disclaimer – I do not own Hunger Games, Catching Fire or Mockingjay or any of the characters SC created therein. Maybe I can keep some of the boys on the squad though.**

The Surface

Shine and Mercurius circled, two feral cats. They were each turned, one foot in front of the other, bouncing lightly on the balls of their bare feet. Their eyes were locked onto each other, watching for a lapse, an opening.

We had all been sparring, but had gathered around to watch them as they were the last match still going. Most of us were still beginners in the ancient methods of hand-to-hand combat. However, Shine had been doing this for years in District 1 and Mercurius had picked it up in the Capitol.

I had been in my fair share of fights, and seen even more, especially down in the mines. The feeling of being forced down into that darkness brought out the worst in a lot of us. But this sparring was a completely different thing from those fist-throwing melees. It was more like an art. They used punches, kicks and hand chops, but even more importantly, they knew ways of using an opponent's momentum as a weapon. The first time I sparred with Mercurius I made the mistake of rushing him and found myself flat on my back before I knew what had happened.

These two were evenly matched. Shine was stronger than Mercurius, due to his time grave-digging, but Mercurius could move like lightning. They were both tattooed; Shine had wild designs covering his arms, shoulders and head, in this strange sparkling black paint which shown even through his short, blond hair; Mercurius's back blazed with green wings that spread up onto his arms. The rest of us watched them, trying to memorize their easy style. Mercurius flashed a kick toward Shine's head, but Shine ducked under his leg and flipped him so quickly that I wished I could watch that again in slow motion.

"That's enough for tonight, gentlemen," called Captain Brighton. "Anyone who wants an off-base pass, talk to Hawthorne - last night before a week in the Nut."

As we headed back to the barracks my Communicuff beeped: "Phone Call Report." I'd call my mom back after a shower.

We were finally going to the Nut, although this week we would not get beyond the Surface. The Surface was the level where the train tunnels were, where the main entrances had been. It was the only level that had been largely cleared of rubble, of ordnance, of bodies.

Shine had managed to tag along with Marik when he left GDU. He was actually a good fit for our squad because he had worked on the Surface before. He had been in the rebel platoon that had worked to clear it immediately after the fall of the Nut. When the assault on the Capitol started, they had been called to join it and the clean-up of the Nut was just now getting going again. Shine's experience in those early days was a help to our Squad, gave us some clue what we were getting into.

Our squad was up to full strength now, ten. Besides Urvan Shine and Marik Delmar, the other two who had joined late were Cotton Asher from District 8 and our very own medic, Devon Burdock, from District 10. Of course, we called him "Doc." Doc was not officially a doctor, in fact he was a veterinarian before joining the rebellion. But District 10 was the livestock district and veterinarians were very important. The animals got better care than the people. Doc finally had to go on the run because he was wasting too much time, medicine and care on the humans. We all hoped that he wouldn't have to spend too much time, medicine and care on humans on this assignment, not for his sake but for ours.

Asher had a weird story. He was our rubble expert. After his city in District 8 was bombed into oblivion he and a small group of people managed to hide out and live in one of the bombed out factories. It wouldn't have worked for long, except that most of the Peacekeepers were pulled out because of problems in other districts. They were able to survive on stolen food in areas that no one from the Capitol had time to clear. I wondered if his experience had made any one else think that there might still be people surviving in the Nut.

As we walked back, Marik was humming to himself as usual. "So Captain Brighton's not going. Looks like you will finally be a real Squad Leader."

"Or at least have to fake it," I said.

Redstone joined us. "Count me in for a pass." That made nine requests.

"So, you going?" asked Marik. I sighed. Now that everyone else was going I probably had to.

"I should stay in and go over the training drills. I want to be ready."

"'Let not your mind run on what you lack as much as on what you have already,'" said Marik. He was quiet, but then would come up with things like that.

"Who's that from?"

"Marcus Aurelius," he said.

"I'll have to look him up." I was learning a lot from the books Captain Brighton had given me, but I couldn't keep up with Marik. "Alright, I'll go."

In Captain Brighton's office I reported that I need 10 off-base passes. "Ten? So you're going, too?" the captain said as he handed the passes to me.

"Yes, sir."

"Watch out for the redheads," he said with a smirk. "One more thing I want in your report next week: your recommendation for an Assistant Squad Leader."

"Yes, sir." That was going to be a tough one. There were a number of good candidates on the squad.

"Do you need any more reading material?"

"I'd better take some new stuff with me," I answered. I wasn't much of a student back in the District. School was never very hard. We weren't very interested in learning and they weren't very interested in teaching us. I spent most of my time sketching or daydreaming.

This was totally different. I was amazed at how much I didn't know, about the world before Panem, about civilizations that had come and gone. I had so many half-formed questions. Now I was finding out that others have been wondering the same things for thousands of years. Should the strongest run the show? If not, who should? What about those who need help? What do we owe the people around us? And what difference does it make anyway - how we act? I didn't know what the answers were, but I liked not being alone having questions.

Somehow listening to Mercurius brag about women just didn't compare.

I stopped off at the phone outside the mess hall to call my mom. They were all fine. She mentioned that my training ended in two weeks. She wanted to know if I could come to District 12 for a few days.

I told her I wasn't ready yet.

After a pause she said "You know, they're not here, Katniss and Peeta."

"Where are they?" I asked before I remembered not to care.

"In District 13. Peeta has some health problems and they're seeing doctors there."

That's why she wanted me to come soon. Before they got back.

"I'll think about it, Mom," was the best I could give her.

On the way to Nick's I fell in next to Walker. He was one of the quieter ones, although he seemed to be doing fine with training. He has been a soldier since he was 16, 4 years, plus living in District 13 was a lot like being in the army even before you officially signed papers. Military life was all he knew.

"The Nut should be dull for you, after clearing pods in the Capitol," I said, just to make conversation.

"Dull is good," he said. "I don't want to deal with pods ever again if I can help it."

"I would think they wouldn't be too bad if you had decent updated charts," I said, although in the back of my mind I remember the bizarre gold pod that melted Messalla. How do you clear something like that?

"A lot of them were mislabeled, hard to control or just weird. The worst was the muttation pens. Someone had a seriously sick imagination," he said with a shudder. "Did you see the news?"

On top of everything else, Captain Brighton wanted us all to watch the news or read newspapers. My time being interviewed had made it even harder to trust anything they said on the news, but it was always on in the mess hall and I tried to keep up with it while I ate. Still, I didn't know what Walker was talking about.

"Something about the Capitol?" I asked.

"They just arrested this guy, Dr. Surdeo. He had made up another name and was working as a clerk in a grocery store. But they tracked him down. He's the head scientist who made muttations. I wish we'd left some of them alive so they could throw him into their pen. There's no punishment bad enough for what he deserves." I was surprised by Walker's intensity, but I thought back to Finnick's death and I knew what he meant.

Then I wondered what sort of punishment was bad enough for me - Prim's fireball? Probably.

"Hey Sarge? Joining us?" The others were going into Nick's and I'd kept walking past the door.

I shook my head to clear it and followed them in. We were just sitting down at a big table when I heard a familiar voice call out "Look who's out and about!" It was Johanna and she greeted me with a big hug. She seemed to be alone so I invited her to join our table. What was I thinking?

It wasn't that she didn't get along with everyone. She got along with them all extremely well. She's a Victor so they all knew about her, but as she sat next to me she said "Hi, Mercurius, Shine, Chervil, you brought the whole Squad this time." I remembered hearing them discuss seeing her, but I was a little surprised that she actually knew their names. I introduced the rest of the Squad and they all beamed at her, except for Groves who nodded politely then looked away. He was married. In fact, he had mentioned to me that his wife was expecting. Johanna seemed to make him uncomfortable.

Everyone else was showing off.

"Are you still interested in some decent perfume?" Mercurius asked. "My friend in the Capitol says he can get whatever you want."

Chervil interrupted. "In District 11 they are making their own perfumes now. Subtle, less trashy than the stuff they use in the Capitol."

"No thanks boys. You all must think I smell funny," Johanna said.

Burdock said "You smell fantastic. But I can get the best filets you have ever tasted. Aged and amazing."

"No stove in my barracks," she said, taking a bite of her salad. I had never seen a salad here before. The cook must have made it just for her. I looked over at Marik. He was not saying anything, but I could've sworn he was flexing. I couldn't help laughing.

Johanna looked at me and asked "What's so funny?"

"I could get some really fine coal for you if you want some," I said.

She laughed and I realized that I had not talked to a girl for a long time. In fact, the last girl I had talked to, if you counted a couple of short sentences as talking, was Johanna. I wanted to thank her for visiting me, for helping me out. But this wasn't the place.

After listening to my squad one-up each other for a while, I couldn't take it anymore. "Johanna," I said, leaning close, "Would you like to go somewhere quieter so we can talk?"

"Sure, Sergeant, lead the way," she replied.

I stood up. "Gentlemen, Ms. Mason and I have a lot of catching up to do. I'll see you all tomorrow morning at 0600 sharp. Be ready for a busy week."

As I followed Johanna to the door I heard Mercurius say "We're not the ones who won't be ready for a busy week."

Chervil added "We're not the ones who will be having a busy night."

As we got outside I said "Sorry about my squad. They're not usually idiots."

She took my arm and said "I don't mind. You're the one who is blushing."

Well, now I was. I just rolled my eyes at her.

"Where do you want to go?" she asked.

"I don't know District 2 that well, not off -base. Do you know anyplace?" She led me to a restaurant just down the block: the Green Lion. It was much quieter and darker than Nick's. Of course, Johanna was greeted familiarly at the door.

"You still hungry?" Johanna asked, "Or do you just want to sit at the bar?"

"The bar's fine." I had already eaten, but really I had no idea how a place like this worked. There were menus sitting on the bar. I looked one over and tried to keep shock at the prices from registering on my face. Strangely, squirrel was not on the menu.

"Drinks are on the back."

I took a look, but set it down since I had never heard of most of them.

"I'm glad I ran into you," I said. "I wanted to thank you for coming to see me in the hospital, for helping me out."

"I was on assignment when you left or I would have come to say goodbye. Did they really send you to GDU? Whose wife did you pinch?" she asked.

"No, I requested it," I said.

"Sergeant, you are some twisted branch," she said. That must be a District 7 saying. I kind of liked it.

Her brown hair had grown in longer now and fell in curls around her face. She had on a deep green sweater that plunged in the middle. When she talked to me she leaned forward and I got an eyeful of creamy cleavage. I tried to keep my eyes on her face, but I had the feeling that she knew she was making that difficult. So different from Katniss. She never noticed when men looked at her curves. I always felt like I had to help her out, keep an eye out for her, make sure she didn't get into trouble. Johanna was more likely to go looking for trouble.

The bartender came over. He made very little effort to look at her face. I shot him a glare, telling him to get his eyes back where they belonged. He shifted uncomfortably, and looked at his order pad. Johanna ordered some strange drink I had never heard of. I asked for a beer. He ran through a list. I picked the first one, "Copper Ale." Sounded good enough for me.

"I guess I should be calling you 'Soldier Mason.' You're still in the army?" I asked.

"I am, but don't you dare call me that," she said.

'Then don't call me 'Sergeant,'" I said. Lately no one ever used my first name. It was always 'Sergeant,' 'Sarge,' or 'Hawthorne.' "Are you assigned to a Squad?" I asked her.

"I stayed in because it hacked me off that I couldn't get through the Block. When I finally got released from the nut house, I worked my butt off until they let me try again. Then the sickos didn't even use the water bit the second time. I guess they figured I had more than enough weaknesses for them to work with," she said.

"What was the new one?" I asked her.

"Being distracted by handsome soldiers," she said with a smirk. "What about you? What was your weakness, Gale?"

"Katniss," I said without thinking. I shouldn't have done that. I should have come up with a cute lie like she did.

"So you must be stronger without her then," Johanna said, putting her hand on my arm.

I looked at her gratefully. That was a very kind thing for her to say. Too bad I didn't feel that way.

I tried to change the subject. "So you never said what your assignment is? Are you in a Squad now?"

"Strangely, they've had some trouble finding a squad for me. All squads are either close to evenly split male/female or all male, all female. I won't do the all-female thing. Most women make me want to take an ax to something. But the mixed squads haven't had any openings lately," she explained.

"I never noticed that," I said, remembering that Squad 451 was one of the mixed squads, and it was fairly evenly split. Then I pictured what would happen if they put Johanna in a squad like 425. I could see why a more even mix was needed. She threw dinner into chaos. What would she do to a mission? That might not be because she was female. It might be more because she was Johanna.

"So, tell me about your squad," she said.

We chatted through a couple of drinks, Johanna flirting expertly, me fumbling along. I didn't mention Katniss again but I couldn't keep her out of my head. I had always considered myself to be pretty good with women, other than Katniss. She knew me too well for me to be smooth with her. But before I fell for her I had no trouble talking to girls, flirting with them, kissing them on the slag heap back home. Tonight I was realizing that was another place, another time, another me. Here, I was clueless.

As we walked back to the base Johanna slipped her arm around my waist. I put my arm around her shoulder. The night was cool and she was warm. It felt cozy to hold her like that, but also fake, unearned. I hardly knew her. I had never even gotten her to tell me what her new assignment was. She evaded my questions so gracefully that it wasn't until later that I noticed she'd never answered.

Her quarters were on a different part of the base than our barracks, so we didn't run into anyone from my squad as I walked her home. I did see several heads turn and I knew there would be gossip. Nothing like an army base for gossip. But we ignored them.

Just outside her building she turned to face me and said "Goodnight." As she looked up at me I knew she expected me to kiss her. Why not? So I did. And she kissed me back. For a few minutes I let my mind go blank and just enjoyed her mouth, her warmth, the softness of the back of her neck against my hand. Then my last kiss with Katniss came back to me. I had told her it was like kissing someone drunk, because she didn't know what she was thinking. She was just kissing me to escape her loneliness.

And why was Johanna kissing me? I pulled away and looked at her. "What are you thinking?" I asked.

"I'm thinking you should come inside with me. I have my own private quarters, you know," she answered in a breathy voice as she traced the top of my shirt with one finger.

My first thought was "Of course you do." Johanna seemed to get whatever she wanted. But what I said to her was "I can't. My squad leaves for the Nut early tomorrow morning. I have to be up early to get ready."

"When do you get back?" she asked.

"We'll be back in a week," I answered.

She gave me one more quick kiss, said "Call me then," and disappeared inside.

As I walked back to my own barracks my mind was chaos. Should I have stayed? Any one of the soldiers in my squad, with the possible exception of Groves, would have. Why didn't I? Was it just because I needed to be up early?

I hadn't even meant to go on a date. But I had been thinking I should find a girl, someone to take my mind off of Katniss. So why was I thinking of her more now than I had for weeks? Surely, Johanna should be enough to take anyone's mind off of anything. What was wrong with me?

Had I kissed her just as an escape? Just out of loneliness? When Katniss did that to me, it wasn't good enough. Was it fair then to do that to Johanna? Of course, Johanna didn't want any more than that, did she? Did I?

I realized that I hadn't been worried about contaminating her. Did that mean I was regaining my sanity? Or was I just being selfish?

What would I do when I got back from the Nut?

I had a million questions. No answers at all.

When I reached the barracks I went to my room using the private door, the one that didn't go through the main bunkroom. But someone had opened the other door. I knew I had left it shut. I went to close it and looked into the bunkroom. Everyone was there, sitting around, getting ready for bed.

"Good night, gentlemen," I said. "See you at 0600."

I closed the door, but I could hear through the door, both because the wood wasn't very thick, and because they wanted me to.

Shine called out "Pay up! I told you he would strike out."

"Amazing," said Mercurius's capitol accent. "I thought I knew women better than that. I thought he had it made."

I could hear Marik's deep laugh in the background.

I smiled coldly. At least my botched evening had cost Mercurius money. Of course, he knew women much better than I did. But the idea of turning her down had never occurred to him. Why had it occurred to me?

Four hours later, I tried yet again to think about something, someone, other than Katniss. I cursed her. Hell's teeth. Why couldn't she leave me alone? She was married, happy. Why wouldn't she get out of my head, let me find some happiness, or at least some pleasure? Why did I miss her cluelessness, her naturalness, her complete lack of flirting ability?

Then I thought back to GDU. I had been having trouble sleeping. I kept seeing the dead in my dreams - not the ones we were burying, the ones I had killed. I told Marik one day why I was so tired and he said "Don't fight them. Greet them." It had worked then.

So I tried to think kindly of Katniss. I didn't want her to be unhappy. She didn't mean to torment me. She probably didn't think of me at all. This was not helping. I tried to turn it all around in my head. What if she had been the one who did something evil and Posy had been killed? She must hate me so much.

I was in a fine mood by the time we left for our morning run. Just to cut off any harassment I announced: "Any wisecracks from anyone and the run will be a ten mile." That would keep them quiet.

But the run was great. Everyone griped about our early morning squad run but, at least for me, it was a great way to clear my head. The mornings were getting colder, and the brisk air was better than a cup of coffee. When we finished I told them to clean up, eat, gather their gear and be at the front of the base at 0730. The secured gates to the Nut were just across the square from our base. Normally, we would walk. But with enough equipment for a week's mission I had arranged for a truck to take us over.

The primary goal of our week was to be familiar with the Surface. It was run by a guy who was seriously into following complicated procedures, Colonel Onyx. We had to go over the process for using the elevators, and the lower, older, lifts. There were forms for taking things below, other forms for bringing things up. There was a correct way to handle bodies found below and rules for where and when explosives could be used.

We would also be setting up a base camp on the Surface so we could run our later clearing expeditions out of there. It took forever to get through the security guys outside the Nut. Captain Brighton had told them we were coming. We were listed individually on their checklists. They had each of us show I.D. Then they still went through all of our stuff. I couldn't believe it.

When we finally entered we went through what used to be the train tunnel. The main entrance was buried in a pile of rock. The train depot connected through several openings to the huge central hall. One portion of the hall, just behind the disintegrated remains of the main entrance was cordoned off. The floor had collapsed and there was a gaping pit. There were about a half dozen other squads in the room, most of them well encamped.

Right away I had a bad feeling about the Nut. Years of hunting have taught me to pay attention to my instincts. I tried to pin down what was bothering me about this place. Maybe it was that it was painted the same industrial grey that everything in District 13 was, floor, walls, ceiling. I didn't usually care about paint colors, but that stuff had gotten to me after a while.

Once we were finally inside I checked in with Colonel Onyx. I apologized for being late and told him we had been unprepared for the security delay. He warned me to expect scrutiny at least as tight when it was time to leave.

"You're kidding," I said. "What are they so worried about?"

"This was a fully functional military command post. It hasn't been cleared yet. Just can't let stuff walk out of here, if you know what I mean. Be sure to let your boys know they will be searched."

I didn't like his innuendo. My squad was not here to steal his stuff. I noticed that he acknowledged Redstone with a frown and a nod of his head. What was going on there? He sent an aide to show us where to set up camp. It was in a far corner, near a disintegrated tunnel of some sort.

Asher pulled me aside. "If you want my opinion, as your rubble guy, this is not the best place to camp."

"Why not?" I asked.

"There's some sort of collapsed doorway, just over there. A lot of loose rock, and something made it cave in. If I were picking a site I would want one or two more solid ceiling supports between my camp and that mess."

I sent Shine to bring the aide back. When he returned I asked if we could move our camp over a bit, to an area that suited Asher better. He said "Sure," and we started unpacking.

As I set up our generator I realized what was getting to me. The place felt like a coal mine. The smell, the close air, the trapped feeling, it brought me back to working in the mines. A wave of hatred hit me.

Once again I felt fury at Thread, at Snow, at the faceless Capitol that could steal our entire lives away, forcing us to go down into the black. We would work until our lungs gave out, our backs were broken, or until they decided to kill us. I shook my head. This was not District 12. I was not a miner anymore. But when we went down into the depths of the Nut I was going to have to face the darkness again.

**IrishLuck19 – Thanks again for your great insight and brutal insistence that I keep my tenses straight!**

**Thanks to all my wonderful reviewers – Waiting to see what you think of each chapter is half the fun! If you are reading and not reviewing, try dropping me a line!**

**Wisdomgoddess26 – now a night owl, not an early riser – when do you sleep?**

**HopeNeverDies**

**Solaryllis**

**KidsinLovex**

**Analyn Lana Ruse**

**EchoDeltaNine**

**Private Tucker**


	9. Finding Heart

Finding Heart

Haymitch was magnificent.

He had come on the next weekly hovercraft from 12. As soon as we had explained the problem we all started poring over the documents Mayvene had sent. The boys looked through the forms with the definitions, and I went through Peeta's medical file. I made a timeline with the important dates, trying as hard as I could to ignore the details, especially in his Capitol file. I did see that it had been electrical shocks that had stopped his heart. Like Lavinia. I looked for any medications given after his heart had stopped, to repair or mitigate the damage. But there were none. They were not trying to help him then.

Haymitch was triumphant when they found the definition of an irregular rebel soldier. The rebels, especially those outside of District 13, were not as keen on paperwork as the Capitol. So, there were lots of alternate ways to determine who had been a soldier and when. One was identification by either side as a rebel. Another was causing significant damage to an important Capitol structure. And one was being taken captive by the Capitol.

It was Haymitch's theory that being a tribute should count as "being taken captive by the Capitol." Then Peeta noticed that all of the listed events only counted "after the commencement of the rebellion." That was tricky. Peeta's time in the Capitol after the Quarter Quell Games would definitely count, and that was important because that included his most recent heart stoppage. But we didn't want to have to argue about which damage was from which incident. Could we get them all covered?

Sure enough, when we all went down to see Mayvene there were problems. As soon as we walked into her office Haymitch started roaring to see her supervisor. Peeta and I were both surprised at how angry he was. We had expected him to at least start off trying to be nice. It wasn't until after the supervisor came that I finally understood what was going on. Haymitch had seen something I had missed.

Her name. Right there outside her office: Mayvene Coin, Assistant Accountant. She was President Coin's niece, and, yes, she hated me.

Haymitch let me have it as soon as we got back to Peeta's room. "Katniss, what is it with you? In the arena, in the woods, you're a huntress. Nothing gets past you. Why can't you keep your eyes open in real life?"

"Lay off!" Peeta said, standing up from his wheel chair. I had never noticed before how much taller he was than Haymitch. "If you are not here to help, then get out." The two of them glowered at each other. I sank into a chair and pulled my knees up. Haymitch was, of course, completely right. My hunting mode was slipping away from me. I didn't seem to have the energy to focus like that.

I looked up to see Haymitch slouched against the windowsill. Peeta was sitting down. He took a deep breath. "This is actually good. Now we can work with somebody reasonable."

He was right. We had been assigned to a new accountant: Surrey. When we met with her she agreed right away that Peeta counted as a captured rebel from the moment the hovercraft picked him up from the arena after the Quarter Quell. However, she said she would need a doctor's opinion on how much of his heart damage occurred after that point. We needed to push that date back.

Haymitch left a message with Plutarch's office. He thought that the Gamemaker's files from both of our games might be useful.

"We just need to have someone call you a rebel, preferably someone in power." He stopped talking abruptly when a nurse, my favorite nurse, Cloy, came in.

She checked Peeta's vital signs, then turned to Haymitch and asked "Do you need another chair in here?" She looked at the chair I was sitting on and said, "Actually, let's get rid of that one, too, and get you two recliners, in case either of you wants to sleep in the room." Haymitch had a room on another floor, but I hadn't stayed anywhere else since we had gotten to District 13.

Haymitch and I followed Cloy down the hall. As we went he said "Sorry about what I said. I was still mad from dealing with the accountant witch."

"Don't be sorry. You were right." My stupidity was way too dangerous for Peeta.

Each chair was so big that it took all three of us to carry them down the hall. After we got them into the room Cloy pulled me aside.

"I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but can I make a suggestion?" I nodded. Haymitch and Peeta both looked up from the chair they were adjusting. "You might want to check the District 13 news propos. During the Games. We never watched all of the Games, but they made these summaries and they would always point out anything the tributes did that might bother the Capitol."

"Where can we get those?" I asked.

"They are in the library, video section. I'll get you a map," she said as she left. I wanted to hug her.

Sure enough, we hit pay dirt. We started with the propos from the 74th Games. There were some possibly good comments when it became clear that Peeta had only joined the Careers to help me. He was obviously popular in District 13. The editing was a bit disconcerting. Somehow they made me out to be much nicer, and much more in love with Peeta, than was completely accurate. Haymitch said that if I ever need to establish rebel soldier status the comments when I put flowers on Rue would probably do it. Then we watched the end. I still had to turn away from Cato's death.

They played this triumphant music as we spit out the berries and rode the ladders up to the hovercraft clinging to each other. The amount of blood all over Peeta was gruesome. Then there was President Coin. "These are the children who will spread our revolution all over Panem," she said. The three of us cheered so loudly that the librarian came in to ask us to keep it down.

"I wonder how her niece will like that one!" said Haymitch and we all laughed. It was perfect. And just before Peeta's heart stopped for the first time.

The next day brought another surprise. After lunch Haymitch was telling us how he had worked with Greasy Sae, Bristel and Thom to finish putting the walls up on our house. We had found a pad of paper for Peeta and he was sketching while he listened. Then there was a knock on the door.

"Come in," I called. My mother peeked into the room.

At first I was frozen, then she opened her arms and said "Katniss," and I jumped up and hugged her.

"You came." As soon as I said it I felt guilty about sounding so surprised.

"If you want me here, I'll come as often as I can." I looked at Peeta. I could tell he was trying to suppress an I-told-you-so smile, but I didn't mind.

Haymitch left a couple of days later. We made him promise to come back, although he tried to make us promise to just come back to District 12. I wished that we could.

Mom worked out a deal with her hospital in District 4 so that she could come for five days every other week, as long as she reported back on how things were done in our hospital. Even when she was in District 4 we talked quite a bit on the phone. She was a great help as we evaluated Peeta's treatment options.

Peeta was on several different medications. The doctors would start him out on low doses and gradually increase the dosages, monitoring to see if there was any improvement. The first set of drugs he tried didn't help much. After 6 weeks, Dr. Adrian recommended that we try some different medications.

Mom was enthusiastic about monitoring side effects and urging us to get outside, get some exercise. When she was in town she waited on us hand and foot, and I slowly learned to relax and enjoy it.

Now Peeta had been on his new medication regimen for several weeks. Mom was in town and we were sitting around waiting for Dr. Adrian's latest update. I was on edge. Peeta claimed to be feeling fine, but I thought his color wasn't good. He still seemed to tire very easily and he had developed a nagging cough.

Mom brought us in tea. Mine tasted horrible. I choked down a sip then looked at her.

"What is this? Wait. This is that medicine you wanted me to take. That medicine to keep me from turning into . . . ." I couldn't finish the sentence.

"I thought it might help. You've been through a lot lately." My mother looked at the floor while she said that.

The room was silent. Peeta looked at me, his blue eyes so concerned that I turned away from him. "Does it taste that bad?" he asked. He knew that the taste was not the issue.

I set the cup down. "I'm fine, Mom," I said.

But then Dr. Adrian came in. Mom and Peeta always took notes when he talked. I decided to focus instead on the doctor. He didn't smile when he shook Peeta's hand. Dr. Adrian was usually a friendly man. He started off talking about some of Peeta's numbers which had improved. But he wasn't looking at any of us, just at the chart he held in his hand. His hand seemed tight on the chart. None of this was good.

Sure enough he finally said "We're just not getting enough improvement in your blood ejection fraction." I was familiar with the words by now, although not completely clear on what they meant. All I knew was we needed serious improvement and we weren't getting it.

"We need to start discussing a more aggressive treatment strategy," continued the doctor. "I have reviewed your case with several of my colleagues in the Capitol and I think that we need to look at putting a pacemaker in."

Mom and Peeta each had questions for the doctor. I just stared at him. He had relaxed a bit after breaking the bad news to us, but he was still nowhere near a smile. When Mom asked him if there were any other alternatives he did this strange thing where he blew a bunch of air out of his lips and looked at the ceiling. Then he said "At this point I see no acceptable alternatives." There was something he wasn't telling us.

After he left my mom went downstairs to get her dinner and mine from the cafeteria. I had been content to eat whatever the nurses brought up for me, but she liked to choose something for us herself.

"So are you up for this? It will be major surgery," I asked Peeta.

"I know, but it sounds like it has a good chance of working. Don't worry. These doctors know what they are doing." Once again, Peeta was comforting me. I pushed the old tea mug around on the tray.

"Why don't you try some of your mother's tea? It couldn't hurt." It was always so hard to say 'no' to him.

"Do you think I need it? Am I becoming . . . ."

Peeta cut me off. "No, but I think it is a struggle for you. Why not do what you can to make it easier?"

He was right. I hadn't actually hidden in a storage room yet. Right after Mom arrived I found myself with my hand on a closet door knob. I thought seriously about disappearing for a while, then shook the feeling off and rejoined them in Peeta's room.

After that time, the temptation was not as strong. I wanted to be there when Peeta needed me. He didn't know the details of how badly I handled his captivity and the horrible time after he was rescued. Of course, he knew how I had behaved whenever we had tried to talk, but I didn't want him to know about my long "mentally disorganized" phase.

I took a sip of the tea. It was worse cold, but Cloy heated it up for me. When my mom got back she was pleased to see I was drinking it, but didn't say anything.

I had some every day after that. I didn't know if the tea was helping or if it was Peeta's steady optimism, but I began to feel that this pacemaker surgery was the best option we had had in a long time. Mom was distressed that she would not be able to be here during Peeta's surgery. It would be in one week and she couldn't get off again so soon.

"I just don't want you to have to spend the day sitting alone, worrying, while he is in surgery. Maybe Haymitch could come," Mom suggested.

"There are worse things than being alone," I muttered; comforting me was not Haymitch's strong suit.

"What about Annie?" Peeta asked.

"She can't come. She has a baby," I responded, surprised at his suggestion.

"Babies are portable," my mother said. "I think we should call her. Besides she wanted to be updated. You have to at least let her know Peeta will be having surgery."

We called Annie. As it turned out she did want to come. Little Finnick, who she called "Finnie," was 4 months old. Had we been in this horrid hospital that long? She said that she would love a chance to get out and show off her beautiful baby, even if it was just to the people in a hospital waiting room. We let Haymitch know and he said that he would come too.

In the days before the operation we tried to spend as much time as possible walking in the new park which was above-ground, just above the hospital. We would take Peeta's wheelchair and he would walk behind it, pushing it, as long as he could, then I would push him in it when he got tired. It was cold out so we had to bundle up, but the outdoor air felt fantastic.

One day just after we had gotten back to the room a doctor we didn't know came in. He introduced himself as "Dr. Janus."

"I have consulted with Dr. Adrian about your case in the Capitol. I was in the District and wanted to talk to you," he said.

Peeta shook his hand. I decided to engage in another round of doctor watching. This doctor was very fidgety. He was carrying a large file that must have been Peeta's. He kept moving it from hand to hand, flipping needlessly through the pages, messing with it. It was so distracting that I found it hard to listen.

"I wanted to discuss with you another possible alternative for your treatment," he said. Peeta and I both perked up. Dr. Adrian had made it sound like there were no real alternatives.

"I have been working in cardiac surgery in the Capitol for years and it seems to me that you are a perfect candidate for a heart transplant. Your current treatment regimen is not progressing satisfactorily, you have serious, permanent heart damage and I understand that your treatment is being fully covered as the result of military service."

Peeta nodded and he continued, "The protocol for finding organ donations has changed recently and, frankly, for the next several years there will be a shortage of donations with a resulting serious backlog of candidates. However, given your public profile, you may be in a unique position with respect to procuring a voluntary donation."

I could barely understand what this man was saying. Peeta was frowning. He didn't seem to like Dr. Janus either, but a chance for a healthy life made it worth listening to him.

"I know that, so far, your condition has been kept fairly confidential. However, if you were to allow a bit of publicity, you would find much public sympathy. Your story is a compelling one. You are so young and your suffering at the hands of President Snow has been hideous. Your realistic chances of a successful pacemaker implantation are no more than 20%. In addition, due to current events and changing circumstances in the Capitol, we have found that there is a subset of individuals who find the opportunity to be of assistance quite attractive."

Peeta interrupted the flow of smooth words. "Wait, are you talking about people agreeing to be organ donors if they are to be mortally wounded?"

"Well," the doctor was now just flipping through the corners of the file without looking at it, "we are building a database of such donors, but obviously, the process will take years before there are consistent opportunities for organ harvest."

"Then what are you talking about?" Just what I was thinking. I was glad to know that Peeta was having trouble understanding this creepy man, although I had the feeling he was ahead of me.

"A directed voluntary donation. It is not a certain thing, of course, that a donor will step forward, but with the combination of your fan base and Miss Everdeen's . . ."

"GET OUT!" Peeta was sitting up in his bed, his eyes blazing. "Never, ever come back. I will have no part of your disgusting scheme!" He pushed the nurse call button, but they were already hurrying into the room.

Dr. Janus almost dropped his file. "Well, we do not have to . . ." but as Peeta started to get out of bed and come towards him he fled the room.

The nurses fluttered around Peeta, getting his various tubes and attachments untangled, settling him back into bed, clucking over his raised blood pressure. I waited until they had cleared the room before I said "What just happened? What kind of organ donation was he talking about?"

"He is just another one of the Capitol's monsters," said Peeta. He seemed deflated, exhausted. I held his hand.

"He wanted to make a big public thing out of your . . . condition," I said. "Why?"

"So that someone, someone with a healthy heart, would step forward and donate it to me," said Peeta, staring at the blank gray wall.

"Do you mean donate their heart now? But how could they keep them alive without a heart?" I asked.

"They couldn't."

I sat down. After a while I said "No one would do that."

"No one who was happy and healthy, but they are willing to take advantage of those who are not," sighed Peeta.

After a while, I asked "Peeta, do you think what he said was true, that there is only a 20% chance that the pacemaker will work?"

"I don't know. I don't trust him at all, but I think we need to talk to Dr. Adrian again."

Dr. Adrian was back in the Capitol. We called and left a message for him. He called back less than a half hour later.

"Is there a problem? What's going on?" he asked.

Peeta spoke, although he had the doctor on speaker phone so I could hear. "We had a visit from a colleague of yours, Dr. Janus."

There was silence. I thought maybe we had been disconnected.

"He is no colleague of mine," Dr. Adrian said finally. "I am so sorry. He sat in on one of the conferences regarding your condition. When he made his proposal to me afterwards I told him you would never be interested. I guess he wasn't willing to take my word for that."

"Thank you for telling him that. You were completely right. But something he said, well, we wondered if it was true," Peeta said. "He mentioned that there is only a 20% chance that the pacemaker will work."

"Estimated success rates are always a subjective business. Our normal success rate is almost 90%, but your heart is more extensively damaged than most. Twenty percent is too pessimistic though. I would give you a higher chance than that, 40-60% or so."

"That's a broad range of possibility," said Peeta.

"I am basing it on the diagrams of your heart from your EEGs, your MRIs, what imaging we have of your heart. We will have to actually see the tissue damage to know how serious it is. Then I could give you a better range, but of course, that would have to be after the surgery is completed. If you would like to get a second opinion that is fine with me, but, as you know now, there are doctors here who you would not want to work with." Dr. Adrian seemed to be apologizing for his profession.

"The organ donation program has been radically changed, for the better. Until recently, most organ donations were not . . . voluntary. It will take some time, years probably, before we can rebuild a stable organ donor base. There are doctors who do not want to wait for that. Of course, there are also patients who will not be able to wait that long."

"I wish I could guarantee that your surgery will succeed, but I can't. Do you still want to go ahead with the operation?"

I clutched Peeta's hand. The decision was his, but he looked at me while he said "Yes. Let's do it."

On the day of the surgery we had quite the crowd in the waiting room. Finnie was a great distraction as the hours ground by. When they finally said that we could go see Peeta in the recovery room I hugged him tightly while he drifted in and out of consciousness. I was barely aware of Dr. Adrian as he explained how seriously damaged Peeta's heart had turned out to be.

Annie and Haymitch both decided to stay for a few more days as we waited to see how well Peeta's heart would respond. Every couple of days they ran another battery of tests. We watched anxiously for the numbers to improve.

But they didn't.

When Dr. Adrian came in he asked Peeta if he wanted to talk privately. Peeta said that everyone could stay. I knew I would have asked them to leave. The doctor's face revealed that this was not going to be an easy discussion.

"The problem, in laymen's terms, is that your heart has suffered four unrelated externally-caused heart stoppages. This is, of course, very unusual. Each episode damaged different parts of the tissue. There is just not enough remaining healthy tissue for the pacemaker to be completely effective."

"Did it help at all?" asked Peeta.

"Hard to say. It is possible that with some combination of medication and the pacemaker's assistance your heart may continue to function for some time."

"Some time? How much time?"

"Again, these sort of estimates are subjective. It could be as long as years, maybe 3-5 years. Of course, that would give us time to further study your unusual condition and possibly come up with a new treatment strategy. I have been consulting with an excellent team of doctors in the Capitol and between us we may be able to devise something that will improve your heart function."

"If the long end is 3-5 years, what is the short end?" I couldn't believe that Peeta was brave enough to ask that. I was afraid to even be in the room for this conversation.

"Impossible to say. Total heart failure is a constant possibility."

"You mean it could happen at any time?"

The doctor just nodded.

That afternoon we were both quiet as we took a walk outside. It was a cold, but clear day. The ground was covered in snow, but the sky was a light blue.

Finally I said "One thing that horrible doctor from the Capitol was right about. You are so young and this is so hideously unfair," I had avoided saying things like that to Peeta. But he didn't like it when I tried to cover up what I was feeling. He pulled me over to a park bench and we sat down.

"I don't look at it that way," he said. "Do you remember the day we spent together on the roof, in the Capitol?"

"Right before our second Games?" I said. "Of course. It was beautiful."

"They never messed with that memory. Maybe they didn't think to look for it. Maybe my brain protected it somehow. We thought that was our last free day together, with no cameras, no Games. We thought there was no way we could both get out of those Games alive," he said.

I curled in close to him. That day seemed like a million years ago, a different me, a different Peeta.

"That day was beautiful because it was a gift. We hadn't expected a whole day with nothing to do and we ignored everything that was coming and just enjoyed it," he said. "Ever since I came back to District 12, back to you, I have tried to look at every day as a gift, a day we never thought we would have together."

"I guess if you had told me that day on the roof that today we would both be alive and be together I wouldn't have believed you. I would have thought it was just wishful thinking," I said.

"And it would have been. The odds of us both surviving were tiny."

I shook my head. "But, we didn't know what Plutarch and the others had planned. We didn't know what was really going on."

"And we still can't know, what is planned, what is going to happen, what our odds really are. So let's just take each day as a gift and enjoy it," he said.

I closed my eyes and tried to just be grateful for this time together. It took a lot of effort to ignore the bitter thoughts that kept returning.

"Katniss?"

"Yeah?"

"Let's go home."

"Are you giving up?" I didn't mean to sound hopeless.

"No. But if all we are doing is trying different medicines we can do that in District 12. I'm tired of living underground."

"Okay. They will probably make you come back for tests every once in a while." I was getting used to how this whole medical thing worked.

"I know. But I want to have more to do than just being sick all of the time."

I wanted to get out of District 13 so much that I had to be careful not to agree too quickly. If it was better for Peeta to be here then we should stay. But he wanted to go home so I needed to find a way to make it work.

The snow-covered ground seemed to make the park quieter. It was so peaceful, no sound but a lone bird somewhere.

"I had a weird thought," I said. "What if the Quarter Quell Games had been normal? What if there hadn't been a rebellion? What if you had been the Victor?"

"Don't even think of that. It is too horrible."

"No, but what I am wondering is – after you came out, the time before they fixed us up, fixed my ear. Would they have fixed you up? Your heart had stopped 3 times by then. Would they have given you a new heart? Whose heart would it have been?" I couldn't stop thinking aloud.

Peeta shuddered. "It would have been a waste of a good heart," he said. "Without you, it would have been broken."

**Thanks to IrishLuck19 - If any of you haven't checked out her Batman fanfic you should – it is called "Unmasked." I didn't know much Batman, besides the old cheesy T.V. show (which I loved) and the movies, but this is a great story.**

**Thanks to all my great reviewers! If any of you are interested I went back into "the Surface" to give Johanna a little more edge (and a few more contractions).**

**Even if you haven't reviewed up to now feel free to drop me a note just so I know who is out there. (Cue spacey music.)**

**Hope Never Dies**

**Heart the Squid**

**Wisdomgoddess26**

**Solaryllis **

**MountainAir**

**KidsInLovex**

**Private Tucker**

**Kina Kalamari**


	10. The Armory

**Disclaimer – Suzanne Collins invented and owns all of the characters from Hunger Games, Catching Fire and Mockingjay. I own nothing. I'm just helping some of her characters go on with life now that SC is done with them.**

**Content: If you don't like obnoxious army banter on mature themes, you shouldn't read on.**

* * *

**The Armory**

We were getting our gear into the back of the truck, headed back to the Nut, when my communicuff beeped "Phone Call Report." I glanced at it, then looked at the time. We had an enormous pile of stuff to get through security, no time to go back for a phone call. The phone number was District 12, not marked "Urgent." It'd have to wait. I wouldn't even have thought about going back, except the call was so unusual.

It was from Peeta.

I got in the truck. They didn't have working phones over at the Nut yet. I'd call him when we got back.

"So Chervil was the lucky one this time," called out Asher.

Chervil grinned. "I didn't even have to buy her any perfume."

Johanna. I had made a mess there, even though I had gone to Mercurius for advice. But he had none when it came to how to turn a woman down, except to try to convince me that I was nuts. It didn't help that I couldn't sort out why I shouldn't go out with her. It came down to trusting my gut, which told me that I shouldn't get involved with Johanna. But I had no idea how methodically vindictive she'd be after I told her I just wanted to be friends.

"Walker, that means you are next, unless she's going to give Groves a go," said Shine.

"She already did," said Groves. "If my wife calls, you can tell her I was good."

"Yeah, but would Johanna tell her you were good?" asked Chervil, causing laughter and wolf whistles all around.

"As your Medic, I would advise against _ever_ letting Johanna talk to your wife," added Burdock.

Over the past 6 months Johanna had gone out with almost all of my Squad. Whenever we emerged from the Nut for a few days she would pick a new one. I didn't want trouble within the Squad, rivalry, jealousy, but they all just seemed to think it was fun. Although Mercurius was being uncharacteristically quiet.

"Hey Sarge, she had a message for you," said Chervil. "She said you should let her know the next time Rory was in town. Who's Rory?"

Hell's teeth. She was a witch. I clenched my jaw, unable to think of any kind of witty response to that, or any response at all.

"His brother," answered Marik for me. Another whistle, this one acknowledging a low blow. I didn't discuss my family much although they knew about Posy since her artwork decorated my bunk.

I was glad to arrive at the security checkpoint. I shook off thoughts of Johanna and greeted the two guards on duty. "'Morning Soldier Plouton, Soldier Charon. How are things at the Nut today?" We were going to have a tough enough time clearing security without antagonizing the guards. The next couple of weeks we would be clearing the Nut's old armory, so we had a lot of specialized gear with us, shields, explosives, things these guys might not find familiar. Mercurius had visited the Capitol recently and brought back some helpful items that were not standard issue; in fact, some of them might not even be legal. I'd already assigned Redstone and Asher to help me deal with the guards. Redstone was from District 2 and spoke their language. Asher was now Assistant Squad Leader and was just good at getting along with people. I'd also assigned Mercurius to unload the truck, and inspect all weapons for cleanliness. The main point was to keep him far away from the guards. He talked too much.

It took two hours to clear security, but we got through. The guards kept an inventory of everything we brought in. I don't think they knew enough about explosives to recognize that some of our stuff was unconventional. I wondered who would review the inventory they took and whether they'd notice. It didn't matter. We had some dangerous things to clear and we were going to use the best tools we could get.

Inside we went to our base camp and started setting up.

Over the last few months we had developed our own routine for dealing with the Nut. Our squad was divided into two "Boom Teams," as we called them. Team 1 was Mercurius, Redstone, Delmar and Walker. Team 2 was Shine, Groves, Chervil and Asher. Mercurius and Shine had gone to extra training and were now our explosives specialists, the "Boomers," one on each team. Redstone and Groves were in charge of mapping and inventory. We called them the "Pencils." The others were all "Spotters," who each checked half of each room for "IOIs" – Items of Interest, in other words, things we might need to clear or beware of while we were in the area.

Doc and I were not on teams. Technically, Doc did not have any duties other than monitoring the fitness for duty of the Squad members and treat any injuries or illnesses. His medic badge with its twisted snakes set him apart. But Doc didn't like sitting around. He wrote up first aid pamphlets for the squad, predicted likely injuries from various missions, gave us advice - whether we wanted it or not – about diet and exercise, and willingly did whatever I needed him to do.

Partly under Doc's advice we found a way to get some exercise wherever we were. On base that was easy. Besides the morning run I had taken to swimming in the base pool most afternoons. On the Surface there was enough space for a run. When the weather was decent we included the outdoor area within the security perimeter. Underground the workouts were more of a challenge. Some areas had decent space cleared. In others we were limited to calisthenics and sparring. Doc agreed with me that maintaining this part of our routine helped keep life normal in the weird world of the deep abandoned Nut.

Another rule I had added was that no one in our Squad spent a whole week sleeping underground. After the first two nights below, we rotated and groups of 2-4 would go sleep up at the base camp at the Surface. Actually, I preferred to camp outside whenever I could. Sleeping under the open sky seemed the perfect antidote to the claustrophobia of being deep underground. The rotation was something I needed for my own sanity. Doc added medical language to our procedures to make it sound official.

Once we had set up our extra supplies at base camp, we were ready to go. Clearing the armory was a big deal. Ever since we first got over to the Surface other squads had been asking when we were going to get to it. It had been more than a year now since the avalanches shut down the Nut, but the place still felt unstable. In middle of the night there would be rumblings from the abyss as somewhere down there, something shifted, something collapsed. It set everyone on edge. Knowing that there was a fully stocked armory below, with guns, ammunition, bombs, who knows what, made everyone hold their breath when we heard noise down there.

By now we had cleared all of L4, the fourth level down from the Surface. Other squads were clearing L1, L2 & L3. We had started in on L5 and worked our way over to the armory.

Asher went over the plans. "Last trip we cleared these offices here just outside the armory. Hopefully, the charcoal boxes we left have cleared up the smell. If not, we will have to use more of Mercurius's magic cloth." Many of the areas we had already cleared included bodies left from the collapse of the Nut. By now they were basically skeletonized. They didn't smell that bad to Marik, Shine and I, but the rest of the squad wasn't used to it. Mercurius had brought us some cloth from the Capitol which could filter the odors. It was amazing stuff. Asher was particularly grateful since the guy had a nose like a bloodhound.

We did what we could to find some I.D. on the bodies, then wrap them and put them into body bags. We called it "bagging and tagging." I required that this be done with a certain amount of respect so the wisecracks were silenced while we dealt with them. After we were done I called up and another squad came down and got them.

Asher continued: "We have an inventory list obtained from the administrative offices which were cleared on L2. It's a guide, but no guarantee. We don't know how carefully this inventory was maintained, or how many things were taken out of the armory or put into it in its last days. Team 1 will go in this afternoon, mainly Pencil work. Tomorrow Team 2 will start clearing."

Before long we headed down. There were guards in charge of the elevators. Whenever there was a team below, which was most of the time lately, the elevators were kept on, but guarded. They were unbelievably slow and we had to go down in two groups. I went with Team 1. Once we were on L3 we had a hike over to the older lifts from the original mines. There had been newer elevators put in but they were in the front segment of the Nut which had completely collapsed. If the Armory had been in that segment the whole mountain probably would have blown. But the Armory was in the back, deeper into the mountain, where it was more secure.

The hand-operated old lifts were a problem for me. They were just like the death traps we had used in 12. A squad of engineers had been sent down to inspect them and had proclaimed them safe, but I wondered how many of them would have let their own sister ride in one.

I was riding with Team 1 which had two issues. Both of them were Marik Delmar. We had his sheer mass in the lift with us, and we didn't have his muscle moving the lift. Chervil and Asher together had to move the lift for us, where Delmar could easily move the lift for Team 2 by himself. It was set up so that it could be moved from either top or bottom. Now that we going to L5 we had two floors to go down. The whole time I tried to keep my mind busy, to go over plans in my head. I worked to keep my breathing slow and steady. I did not need to have my whole Squad thinking about how old these lifts were, how many times they had been up and down, how worn the ropes holding them were, how many trips they had left in them. I watched the monitors on my communicuff. They told me we were going deeper, getting warmer.

I looked at Redstone. He knew more about the Nut than anyone else on the Squad. He'd lived here for years.

"Why does this damn place smell so much like a coal mine?" I asked.

"Because it used to be one," he answered, looking surprised that I didn't know that.

"In 2?"

"A long time ago. Twelve wasn't the only district with coal, but they decided to use 2 for other things. So they made this old mine into the Nut." No wonder I hated the place.

Then Mercurius asked "Do you have a schedule for what we are clearing next after the Armory?"

"Yeah, why?" I asked. I hadn't looked at the schedule much past the Armory.

"Just wondering what Brighton put as next priority," he said.

"No idea," I said. "Why? You hoping to find the ladies' quarters?"

"No," he said. When he didn't say anything else I turned to look at him. It was not like him to give a one word answer. He shrugged. "I was wondering about the Detention Cells."

"Anybody you know there?" I asked, not exactly joking. He was interested in them for some reason. Unless releasing the prisoners was high priority during the collapse there were definitely going to be bodies there.

"Not me," he said. "Brighton."

"Is this more intel from Nick's?" I asked.

"It's why Brighton isn't coming over here to the Nut himself. He's sending us over to find what he doesn't want to see," said Mercurius.

"Lay off," said Redstone, jumping to Brighton's defense. "Why should he come over?"

"If it was my son, I'd want to be the one to find him," said Mercurius.

Chervil wasn't with us to make some crack about how many unknown sons Mercurius had. I'd never heard Mercurius be this serious.

I'd gone to the first Commission meeting with Captain Brighton and gotten to know him better. Peacekeepers had not been allowed to marry, but the higher officers were. Brighton had a family, lots of kids, in a house not too far from the base in District 2. I didn't know he had lost a son.

"Was his son a Peacekeeper?" I asked.

"No," answered Redstone. "He was just a kid. Nine or ten years old. I was here when Brighton left. He was the District 2 Commander. Big wig. Then one day we heard rumors. He had disappeared, joined the rebels, taken his whole family. Except he had one son who had been kept late at school that day. The Peacekeepers grabbed him and threw him in Detention. He was still there when the Nut collapsed."

I closed my eyes. More blood on my hands.

"I told you, you need to do more research at Nick's," said Mercurius.

"How about if I put you in charge of the Research Department? Report back to me if you find something I should know."

"Okay. Consider that your first report," said Mercurius. "I don't suppose you want a report on your latest tabloid exploits?" he teased.

"No," I said. "I'm not interested in complete fiction." We finally reached the bottom and got out of the lift.

There were offices next to the lift. The last time we were down we had piled all the desks to one side so now it was easy to set up camp. Mercurius had gotten us a better generator in the Capitol, quieter, less vibration. We didn't want to be shaking things up too much down here. The thought of what would happen to the entire Nut if we made a mistake made me shudder.

The whole squad gathered around to examine the first obstacle: the door. It was huge, steel and locked. Above ground it could have been blown open. Down here we had to be more delicate.

"Get me the blow torch," said Mercurius, pulling on his safety glasses. "I'll open the door."

All of a sudden my stomach lurched. "Wait!" I said. "There's a booby trap!"

Mercurius stepped back from the door. "What makes you think so?" he asked.

"There have been no reports of any booby traps in the Nut," Redstone added.

"But this is the Armory. They knew they were under attack. It's got to be procedure to booby trap it," I said.

We looked at Redstone, but he shook his head. "I never worked near the Armory."

"We've got to get in there somehow. Any ideas?" I asked.

"I'm sure there are cameras in there," said Redstone. "Any way we can get them to work?"

"Not that I've heard of," I answered.

"We need to get our own camera in there," said Delmar.

"I can get us a camera. There's probably one in here somewhere," said Mercurius as he started looking around the corners of the room. There were some advantages to working in a thoroughly bugged place.

"If he can get a camera, I can get it in there," said Chervil.

"We just have to get it to work then," I said. "Let me check with Brighton." I used my communicuff to buzz Brighton. He must have been working at his desk because he responded right away. He told me how to find the serial number on the camera, what program to enter it into, and how to watch its view on the communicuff.

By this time, Mercurius had found a camera. He used his knife to peel it off, then brought it over. The battery was long dead, but Chervil wired up another. We found the serial number easily enough and soon were ready to send the camera in.

While we were working on that, Redstone had found some thin cardboard in one of the desks. He brushed it off, tore it to the right size and we stuck on the camera sheet. Then Delmar pointed out that we were going to need some light.

"Now I can show off some of my new toys," said Mercurius. "Just don't get these two confused. The red is explosive tape. You can wrap it around anything, slip a fuse in and instant bomb. The blue is detonator tape. It can be the fuse, or in this case, we can use it for a bit of light. Anybody color blind should stay away from the tape."

"That's me," said Asher. "Won't touch them, but they smell different."

"You're barking," said Mercurius.

"No, close your eyes. The detonator tape smells like gunpowder. The explosive tape is like a combination of something chemical and old dust."

I tried it. I could definitely pick up the gunpowder, but I couldn't get anything from the explosive tape.

"Any chance it will set something off in there?" I asked.

"Only if there were bare explosives lying on the floor just inside the door," answered Mercurius.

"If the room's booby trapped, anything is possible."

We found a couple of rulers, taped them together with normal tape, and poked them under the door to make sure there wasn't anything on the floor inside it. Nothing.

Then we covered the ruler with fireproof cloth and wrapped the end with detonator tape. We would only have two minutes of time to see. We got the camera in place, on the floor next to the door. Chervil held the cardboard with the camera, Mercurius got the ruler with the tape. Everyone else gathered around the Communicuff.

"Sorry to say this, gents, but as your doc I would recommend that all spectators take shelter, just in case something blows," said Burdock.

"Yeah, you don't want to be part of the party if Chervil and I get lit," responded Mercurius lightly. The idea of getting blown up never seemed to bother him as much as I thought it should.

"You two, put on helmets," Doc chided them.

We huddled behind the desks around my communicuff. Two minutes proved enough time to find the booby trap. It was at the top of the door. Mercurius lit another piece of tape to get a good look at it. They got the camera right on top of it and decided it was a simple trigger with a wire that ran from the door to a small charge on the wall. The charge was on a fuse which then ran through some of the items on the nearest shelf.

I held my breath when Mercurius cut the wire, but, as he had predicted, nothing happened. We checked around the door one more time, then I gave Mercurius the go ahead to cut out the door knob. Up above there was some sophisticated security, but down in the older parts of the Nut, it was just a big door with three solid locks. Mercurius made short work of them.

Team 1 suited up and went in. I went with them to act as an extra Spotter. We all wore helmets, gloves and thick protective suits, our "Boom" gear. As the Boomer Mercurius wore a suit that made him look twice as big as usual, with an enormous helmet.

"Don't touch anything," I said. "First, check every inch for more booby traps. Start with the floor." We went over everything carefully, but found no other nasty surprises.

This was a well-stocked armory; it was going to be a busy two weeks. After a while I noticed that my heart was still pounding. The Armory was crowded with 5 of us in protective gear, one being Delmar. His protective suit was custom made, bigger than anything they had in stock. I was too wound up to be in such a tight room with so many explosives.

I went out to take a breather in the office. Team 2 was supposed to set up camp while Team 1 was in the Armory. That hadn't taken long, so they were inventorying the contents of a storage room next to the office. I sat down on the floor to update the register. What had made me so sure that the room had been booby-trapped? Gut instinct? That I would have booby trapped the room if I had been guarding it?

"Sarge – got a minute?" Asher sat down next to me. "I don't mean to be paranoid, but someone has been in here since we were last down here. Any other squads working on L5?"

"Not supposed to be. How do you know?"

"It was just habit. When we lived in the factory in 8, whenever we left our camp I left a hair in the doorway. Just so I would know if someone came in while we were gone. I did the same thing here. Hair was moved."

"Could it be something else? A mouse, a rat?"

"Then there would be droppings. We haven't seen any."

"Anybody on the Squad double back last time, forget something?"

"No. I was the last one out. Unless someone came back down the lift, but we'd know about that."

"Anybody maybe get in before you did today?" He shook his head.

"Any stuff taken?"

"Not that I can tell."

"Weird. Thanks for the heads up."

That night we had an impromptu movie night. Groves had found some of the propos Redstone had told me about. Once the batteries were replaced in the player they found a blank spot of wall and played them. I tried not to watch them too much. I pulled out some of my Commission reading. I was up to Aquinas.

Chervil and Mercurius provided a running commentary. The gory parts were pretty bad. Did they actually kill someone to make those or were they just special effects? Knowing the old Capitol, either was possible.

I looked up from my reading to see the beginning of one. They had used the footage where we shot down the hovercraft in District 8. I couldn't look away. We were hunting side by side, just a year and a half ago. I felt like that was someone else, someone whose life I had heard about, maybe read about. I knew my life hadn't been simple then, but at least I had known what I wanted. Now I had no idea.

I always had trouble sleeping down here. That was one reason for the rotation. As we were settling into our sleeping bags Marik looked over at me and said "You saved some lives today, including mine. Thanks."

"No problem," I said, but I was thinking that somehow saving lives couldn't make up for the lives I had taken. It wasn't a matter of one day hitting the magic number and being back in the black. None of that would bring back Prim. Or Brighton's son. Or the others whose names I'd never know.

Different emotions rolled through my brain forming, separating, reforming: the hatred that had burned while I worked in the mines, the helpless hopeless feeling of knowing we were just slaves. The worst had been after Katniss went back to her second games, with no chance to even say good-bye. I had little hope of ever seeing her in person again. The 75th Games seemed rigged from the beginning to get rid of the Mockingjay. The fences were live. No more hunting and there just wasn't enough food. How long could I keep my family alive? The others would have to take tesserae. And what would happen to Katniss's mom and Prim after she died? How could I keep my promise and keep them from starving, too?

How could I not hate? Whenever there was a chance they changed the rules. The only way not to hate was to be numb, not to care. How could anyone human watch their little sister starve and not care?

But who to hate? Snow, sure, everyone hated him. But he was only one man. Cray, who was never seen alive after the day Thread showed up? Darius, who became an Avox because he tried to help me and died a sickening death? What about Redstone who was a faithful Peacekeeper until he saw through their lies? Brighton, who had been one of their commanders, then lost a son when he joined the rebels? How about those who wouldn't risk their families' lives?

Then I came back to the Nut, this hideous tomb of a mine that I had demolished. Not only that, no one here knew that I had wanted to kill them all, block the air shafts, shoot those coming off the trains. Katniss knew, and she had known then that it was going too far. She had had a line she wouldn't cross. Where did she get that? And she was right. We could have won the war, should have won the war, without crossing that line. But what if we couldn't have won that way? The Capitol had no lines it wouldn't cross, creating mutts, slaughtering their own people, sacrificing everyone. Should we have stayed slaves?

I felt sick as my mind swirled. Was the Commission I was on the answer? Could we make rules of war that would let us keep our humanity? Now the Commission was talking about having war crimes trials. What would Brighton say when he found out that I was one of the criminals they would try? Would Posy watch my trial on T.V.?

Posy. I couldn't go back to District 12. My mom had let slip that they wanted to honor me for saving people when the District was bombed. I had thought maybe my family could visit me again here. But Johanna's cold comment about Rory made me sure I didn't want them here.

I pulled out the pouch Posy had given me. I held on to it and hoped that somewhere, right now, Posy was holding her second best rock and praying for me. Help me, Posy.

It was a long two weeks. Working in the mines had taught me that trapped gases and accumulated coal dust could make this place a tinder box. Then there was the armory full of who knows what - ammo, bombs, but what if there were odder things in there. I thought of the weapons Beetee and I had sketched, talked about, invented: daze bombs full of drugged smoke to disorient everyone; body armor blasters which would explode on contact with body armor; various 2-stage bomb arrays, including the one that killed Prim. What if the Capitol had things like that? What if time had made them unstable?

But the things we cleared from the armory were in reasonably good condition so after a few days I got over expecting something to blow any minute. We took turns taking up cleared ordnance every other day. Every trip up was a chance to sleep up top, but each time it was harder to go back down.

The last few days we worked 16 hour days, taking 4 hour shifts for each team. We had a lot of stuff to get out of the armory, and no one wanted this job to stretch out past the two weeks. We got it done, but the whole Squad was exhausted. The day we finally came up, it was dinner time when we got back to the base. In fact, we had to hurry over to the mess hall, no time to clean up, to get there before it closed. I had a backlog of Phone Call Reports. Peeta had called again. I'd do my phone calls after dinner.

It was great to have a hot meal again. No one was talking much. We all just wanted to eat, clean up and go to bed, in a real bed.

The mess hall was almost empty so it took me a while to notice when it fell silent. Someone at another table glanced at me and looked away. I turned to Marik, but his eyes were on the T.V.

There was Katniss. Looking terrible.

The sound was low, but the subtitles read: ". . . a small, private service here in the District. It's what he wanted."

"Is there a possibility of a memorial service in the Capitol, something for his many fans here?"

"I don't know."

"Again, tragic news here in District 12. Peeta Mellark died of heart failure yesterday at the age of 19. Back to you, Lucian."

* * *

**Thanks again to IrishLuck19 who took time out from Spring Breaking to beta not one, but two chapters!**

**Thanks so much to my awesome reviewers. If you are reading this, just think – your name could be on this list. Come on. I would love to know what you think.**

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**KinaKalamari**


	11. Widows

Widows

I fled to the woods the morning after the funeral. I had always escaped there and I must have had a vague idea that it would help somehow. But I didn't even make it to the hollow log where I used to keep my bow.

I didn't know that grief was so physical. After I lost Prim I had been so badly burned that I expected my body to hurt. Now I was healthy, but not whole. The woods were colorless, cold and alien. I wanted to scream in rage at the world, but when I tried I could only let out a shrill, keening wail. My head spun and the ground heaved beneath me. I stopped running and threw my arms out, but still tripped and staggered. When I hit the ground I fell apart. I had not cried since the day before Peeta died, but now I was wracked with great choking, tearless sobs. I don't know how long it was until I lay on the ground, exhausted.

Mom and Annie found me there, lying partly in the mud, partly in some snow. I let them lead me back to the house. My mother's grief had been silent, closed off from all of us. Mine was loud and violent. But then it left me numb and gray.

Someone decided that I should go stay with Annie. I must have agreed. We took a train and its gentle rocking put me to sleep for the first time in days. Annie, little Finnick, and Annie's mother, Susan, lived in a weathered white house near the shore. I could hear the ocean from my room. For two weeks I moved like a ghost from my room to a chair downstairs and back, listening to the constant hush of the waves. I was always wrapped in a wool blanket. I was so cold.

Then Annie began to pull me back. She put Finnie on my lap while she made lunch. She put his spoon in my hand and asked me to feed him. She asked me to dry the dishes as she washed them. Her mother held my hand as we walked down to the shore. We watched Finnie crawl in the sand. Annie walked barefoot in the ocean, but I kept my boots on. The sand was frigid, dead. I pulled my blanket tighter.

My mother came to visit every weekend. Her hospital was in town. She would catch a ride with Annie's brothers when they came back from the pier in their truck. Jonah and Davy lived in their own house, just down the road.

She brought me her tea, but it didn't help. At night we all sat in the living room, Annie and her mother embroidering things, my mother talking. I listened as she told Annie and Susan about the hospital, watching the building go up, hiring doctors, nurses, buying equipment. I found it hard to focus, but I liked to hear the sound of their voices. They took Finnie to play in the surf. It was spring now and starting to grow warmer. They invited me to come, but I couldn't stand the thought of the cold water.

Whenever my mom left it was quieter. Susan was spent a lot of time outside, getting ready to put in a garden. I didn't have the energy to talk to Annie. She talked to me and to little Finnie while she worked, but of the two of us, he was more responsive. I did listen. She told us what she was doing, what she was thinking, and she told us about Finnick. She said that little Finnie needed to know about his daddy. She told us how they met, how they fell in love, how they finally married. They were beautiful stories, but it seemed she was telling them to me at least as much as Finnie.

I knew she was worried about me. I would sometimes hear her talking on the phone in a hushed voice. I didn't know who she was talking to, probably either my mother or Haymitch, but I had a feeling they were discussing me. I went for a walk, alone, on the shore. I felt hollow, empty. My true self had blown away, out into the ether with Peeta. What was left behind was only a shell, a cold body I had to feed.

That night, once again, I couldn't sleep. I sat in a chair in my room, wrapped in my blanket, my knees pulled up to my chest. The numbness was gone and in its place was raw pain. Usually I tried not to think of Peeta, but now I could think of no one else. I looked at my left hand and studied the ring he had given me, the pearl he had given me in the arena set in a delicate silver setting. I gazed out the window at beautiful stars shining in a clear sky.

_It was after we went back to District 12, after the pacemaker operation. The house, our house, that Haymitch and friends had put up was bare, but it was ours._

_Peeta was so much more relaxed. He sketched, drew and painted. He baked. He talked with friends. He didn't seem afraid to die. In fact, once more, he was comforting me. I wanted to ask him why he wasn't afraid, but I did not want to seem to be telling him that he should worry. _

_One night as we sat in front of our fireplace, with no fire in it, he asked "Can I tell you about something that happened to me in the Capitol?"_

_I was surprised. He never wanted to talk about that time, except occasionally to ask "Real or not real?"_

"_Of course," I said, ignoring the fear in my stomach._

"_I won't tell you too many details," he said, but I interrupted. _

"_You don't have to protect me. If you want to tell me what happened, just tell me."_

"_It was during the . . . the electric shocks. I was worn out. I hurt all over. I didn't think I could take it anymore. I called out for help. I called for my dad. And he came."_

_I was holding Peeta's hands in mine. He had not been meeting my eyes, until the last thing he said. I frowned at him._

"_I know. You are wondering if I was hallucinating, if this is one of my shiny memories. That's the thing. It is not shiny at all. And he seemed so real. All he did was hold my hand, but as soon as he touched me all of the pain was gone. Instead, I felt at peace, loved. And I knew that he was dead. He was somewhere else, watching over me."_

"_Was that . . . was that when your heart stopped?" I asked._

"_No, well, it was just before I think. I could hear people yelling in the room, but they seemed very far away. I was looking down at my own body. I even noticed how calm my face looked. I started swirling, but all through it I could feel him holding my hand. Then I felt the jolt as they restarted my heart. I was back in my body and I felt sore, but the peaceful feeling stayed for the rest of the day. And when I needed strength, like when I needed to find a way to warn District 13, I thought of my dad and he helped me._

"_I am not worried about what is going to happen to me. I am going to be with my dad. I am worried about what you will do," he said, wrapping his arms around me._

"_I don't want to think about it."_

"_Listen, you have to know that I will be watching over you. I will find a way to help you, some way to let you know that I still love you, no matter where I am," he said._

"_Don't say that." I couldn't stand false hope, living in a fantasy world. "You don't know that you will be able to do anything."_

"_Yes, I do. You don't know, but I do. Please, when things are bad, call me. Ask me for help." He was so insistent._

I had not wanted to do this. It seemed silly, childish, ridiculous. And yes, I didn't think I could handle the disappointment when it didn't work.

But I felt so alone. I missed Peeta so much. And even though it seemed crazy I trusted him. So I called out to him, softly at first, then louder, loud enough that I was afraid I might wake Annie up: "Peeta, help me!"

Nothing happened. He did not appear. My pain did not go away. And once again I felt disoriented, dizzy, spinning with grief.

The next day I went walking on the shore. I was alone, but I could feel Annie watching me out the window. She always watched me. Did she know what I was thinking? Had she thought such thoughts herself? I just wanted the pain to end. I looked at the ocean and thought of swimming out to sea and never coming back. I couldn't do it. I was too cold and the water was frigid. But I thought about it. Annie would be sad. My mother would cry. Haymitch would curse me. But no one really needed me anymore. All of my anchors were gone.

I walked slowly back to the house, to try, once again, to eat lunch. Then right next to me a flash of green and blazing yellow caught my eye. A dandelion. I dropped to my knees to see it.

It was from Peeta. I knew this as surely as I knew my own name. He was watching over me. He was telling me, once again, that I could survive. I sat on the ground and looked at this beautiful flower, the first one of spring.

Annie and Finnie came out on the back porch, to see if I was okay.

"Annie, come see. Isn't it beautiful?" I called to her. They came over. She looked as though she wanted to tell me that in District 4 dandelions weren't considered such a big thing, but she didn't say anything. Probably because I was smiling for the first time since I'd been here. She set Finnie down and he crawled over to look at it, but I kept a protective hand blocking him from harming my flower. Finnie soon became more interested in letting dirt and sand run through his fingers. I thought about telling Annie about Peeta, about his dad, about the dandelion in the school yard. But I decided that I want to keep this for myself, in my heart.

We went inside for lunch.

A couple of days later we had clam chowder for dinner. I told Annie that it was good, but Annie looked up at Susan and me and said "Don't tell the boys, but I am sick of clams."

"How can you be sick of clams?" I asked.

Susan laughed. "When you are from up in District 4 and your father and then your brothers are clammers, that's when."

"One thing I miss about District 13 is the meat," Annie sighed.

"Do you ever trade the clams for something else?" I asked.

"My brothers do. In town, in the market. But it is mostly just other fish. Which is a nice change, but I miss venison stew."

"Well, what about the woods down the beach? Are you allowed to hunt there?" I asked.

"Hunting, poaching, was illegal. But that was before, under the old regime," said Susan.

"I don't know about now," said Annie.

"I could go look. Did anyone bring my bow?"

"But the forest is dangerous. All sorts of predators in there – bears, wolves, bobcats, who knows what."

"Don't worry. I'll be armed. I can take care of myself."

So, the next day I went into the woods again. District 4's woods were different. The trees were taller. There was less light. The squirrels were odd-looking, darker. But they were still squirrels. And they were not used to being hunted. I shot a squirrel and my shot was a bit off. I still got it, but I stopped to try to remember. When was the last time I had hunted? I went once after Peeta and I were back in District 12, but before that it had been months. I was going to need to practice. I was about to get another squirrel when I saw two fat rabbits. "_Stew,_" I thought to myself. I brought down the first one easily, but the second, the one that was on the run, was faster than I expected and I missed.

"Oh well," I thought. "This chubby little rabbit will do for a small stew." I collected enough dandelion greens for a salad.

Annie and Susan were thrilled. She invited her brothers over for dinner and we enjoyed our feast. They had a tradition of bowing their heads and saying thanks before their meals. I joined in and was truly thankful that I had been able to make them happy. We were all careful not to say anything about being tired of clams in front of Jonah and Davy, though.

After that, I went hunting every day. The boys carefully asked around in town and, while no one was sure whether it was legal or not, no one knew of anyone who had been punished for hunting. After a while we had more meat than we could eat. The boys started taking it into to town to trade. They brought us back baskets of strawberries, spring peas and collard greens, honey and a bottle of wine. That night we had another feast. My mother joined us and Annie cooked a wild turkey I had shot. I had not eaten turkey since Gale was whipped for shooting one. The evening was so much fun that no one noticed that I still could not eat the turkey. I was eating more now, but it had been a long time since I was really hungry.

Little Finnie tried to eat the peas and I smiled as his fat little fingers struggled to pick them up as they rolled. Davy and Jonah entertained us with stories of how they worked together to get the best trades. Davy would admire something at a stand, then Jonah would walk up and start pointing out all of the flaws in whatever Davy had admired, until the trader lowered the price. They promised to take Annie and me into town the next time they were trading and show us how they worked. I asked them to find out if the best traders had anything they would particularly like from the forest.

The next week we had the perfect chance to go into town. I'd shot a raccoon and we did not want to eat it, but the fur is worth good money and some people liked the meat. I also brought another turkey and a bunch of borage. I had thought I wanted to go into town, but just before the boys were going to pick us up in their truck I changed my mind.

"Annie, I don't think I can do this," I said. "I'll just stay home with your mom."

She put Finnie down to play with some toys and came over to me. "What's the matter?"

"I just . . . there will be a lot of people, and they might recognize me, and they will ask me questions about . . . ." I stopped. I couldn't say his name.

"It's early," she said. "It won't be too crowded. How about if you wear this?" She pulled out a hooded cloak. "It's still cold enough. We can even wrap a scarf around your face if you like."

Since I was always cold, the cloak and scarf felt wonderful. When we got into the truck Davy raised his eyebrows at me, but Jonah just shrugged. All four of us, five with Finnie, squished onto the front bench seat. It was a big truck though, so it wasn't too crowded.

My mother met us in town. She had agreed to introduce me to the town apothecary, Cynthia Spicer. I brought her the borage. When mother asked her if there was anything that she needed from the forest she quickly made a list: bloodroot, clery sage, a dozen other herbs. I wished I had our plant book, but that was one of the few belongings I had left in District 12.

The market was bigger than the Hob had been. Of course, this one was legal. I glanced at a newsstand and saw the tabloid headlines: "Paylor Survives Poisoning Attempt;" "Hawthorne Breaks Another Heart." I turned away and wished I hadn't seen that.

We watched the boys as they haggled over the raccoon. This time they used their tactic in reverse. Davy showed the catch to the buyer and Jonah kept pointing out "what a fine specimen" it was. I thought they got a good price for it, although I heard them muttering about 'robbery' and 'bad bargain.'

Annie had asked them to buy some more honey for her, so we found a booth down at the end of a row with a bunch of miscellaneous goods for sale. As Jonah negotiated, I noticed that they were selling goat cheese. My knees felt weak as I thought of Prim and her goat. I stared transfixed at the small bundle. The rebellion had changed so many things, but I just wanted to be back in our old home, smearing cheese on simple bread with Prim.

Suddenly Jonah grabbed my arm. "Come on," he said. We pushed through the crowd, which had grown quite a bit since we arrived, following Davy and Annie. As we hurried I realized that Davy had handed Finnie to my mother and had his arm around Annie. She was hunched over with her hands over her ears again. I hadn't seen her do that since I'd been in District 4.

In the truck, Annie curled up in the middle of the seat. Jonah drove and Davy talked to Annie while stroking her hair. My mother came with us. She and I rode with Finnie in the back of the truck. It smelled of fish, but we sat with our backs pressed up against the cab. I was holding Finnie, who was fussing. He could tell something was wrong. He didn't like being separated from his mother. About halfway back to the house he was so exhausted that he fell asleep.

At dinner Annie seemed better, but still not herself. She had stopped covering her ears and was cooing while she fed Finnie. However, she still flinched when someone dropped a fork.

Late in the night I woke to the sound of Finnie crying. Annie's mom had taken a sleeping pill so she was out cold. I went to see if he was okay. As I passed by Annie's room I saw Mother in with her, comforting her as she rocked on her bed, with her ears covered again. When I picked up Finnie I could tell right away that he was burning with fever. I peeked in and told my mother, then took him downstairs, trying to console him, to keep him from bothering Annie.

I put a cold cloth on his forehead, rocked him and held him, but still he cried on and on. Finally, my mother came down. She said Annie was asleep now. I held Finnie while Mom carefully measured and watered down some sleep syrup. She said that the hospital has medicine for a baby's fever and cursed herself for not making sure Annie had some. Even after he swallowed the sleep syrup, Finnie kept crying. He was now obviously tired, but wouldn't stop crying long enough to fall asleep.

Then I looked up and Annie was there. She looked a bit crazed, but when she held out her arms for Finnie I gave him to her. She went upstairs and we followed her. She nursed Finnie and soon they were both asleep in her bed.

I went downstairs for some tea. I was too shaken to sleep yet. My mother handed me a cup of tea and said "Don't worry. It's regular tea. It's good."

I smiled. I had been drinking her special tea when I could, but it really did taste horrible. I couldn't tell if it helped or not.

Mother broke the silence. She was standing, looking out the window at the sea. "You know, I barely remember those first months after your father died." There was a time when I wouldn't have believed her. Now I thought back to my first few weeks and I understood. I didn't really remember Peeta's funeral at all, only that there had been lots of people, lots of flowers and some cameras.

"I hope you know that it wasn't that I didn't love you girls. It was just more than my mind could take." She looked so sad. I walked over and took her hand.

"It's okay, Mom," I said.

"I just wish you didn't have to go through this, too," she said and pulled me into a hug.

We all slept late the next morning. I was dreaming of dandelions.

By the next afternoon, Annie seemed normal enough and I decided to go hunting. I was getting used to these woods, feeling more at home there. I had left some snares and I needed to check them. It was a good thing that I did, since almost every one had a kill. The last one I checked had a large rabbit which was unbelievably tangled.

I was cutting it free when I froze. I felt eyes on me. I looked around. It was dusk and the forest was growing dark so at first I didn't see it. Then I forced myself to check again, slower. This time I saw the eyes, up a slight hill, glaring down at me. Who knows, maybe it had already decided to come take this rabbit out of my snare for its dinner. Now I had an angry, probably hungry, bobcat stalking me. I slipped the rabbit into my bag. I nocked an arrow. I lowered my eyes so it wouldn't feel that I was challenging it and began to back down the way I had come in. I moved as quickly as I could without any sudden movements. Every once in a while I glanced up to see if it was following. At first it did, but after coming a hundred yards it stopped. I kept going. I could feel a cold sweat sliding down my neck. Now I was moving sideways, one eye back to watch out for the bobcat, one eye looking forward, finding my way. When I saw the light break through, that told me I was almost back on the beach, I turned and ran full out.

There was a large rock on the beach. I stopped there to catch my breath and so that I wouldn't look like a mad woman when I got to Annie's. My hands were shaking. I went and washed them in the surf. The cool water calmed me. I scolded myself for getting lax. I was used to hunting, but the forest was still a dangerous place, especially at dusk, especially alone. There was a reason it was good to have someone to watch your back. I wondered if Annie could learn to come with me, then remembered Finnie. That wouldn't work. I didn't think her mom was up to it either. I would just have to be more careful.

As I came up Annie's back steps I stopped. She was on the phone in the kitchen. We didn't use the phone much. Her brothers usually just came over. My mom would call to tell us if she couldn't make it on the weekend, but otherwise she just showed up on Fridays with the boys. But now that I thought about it, I noticed that on Sunday nights Annie had been asking me to put Finnie to bed. Once or twice I had come down to see her hanging up the phone. Was someone courting Annie? She was pretty enough, but I didn't see how it could be anyone I didn't know about. Why was she so secretive about these calls?

I reached the door and heard her say "Here she comes. Gotta go," then she hung up. I decided that next week I was going to intercept the Sunday night phone call.

**Thanks, as always, to my wonderful beta IrishLuck19. Her comments are always perfect!**

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	12. Flying Away

**Flying Away**

"But, sir, . . ."

"Redstone, this insubordination cannot be tolerated."

"Excuse me, can I help with something here, sir?" I asked.

"Are you this soldier's Squad Leader?" demanded Colonel Onyx, rounding on me. His black hair, spotted with gray, was cut severely short and flat; his uniform was starched, impeccable. His hands were gripped behind his back. Even though I was the one he addressed his words to, his eyes kept going back to Redstone.

"Yes, sir. Sergeant Hawthorne, sir."

"Soldier Redstone was in the process of setting up camp here, outside the approved Surface Base Camp Area.'"

"Yes, sir. I requested him to. I got clearance from the Security Patrol to use this area." Onyx was seething. And why was he going off on only Redstone? Mercurius and Delmar were there, too.

"You did not get clearance from me. I am the commanding officer of the Surface Area." He was almost shouting now.

I worked to keep my voice low, even. "I am sorry, sir. I did not think the commanding officer would want to be bothered with our sleeping arrangements."

"Do you think I want Redstone here making my perimeter look like a slumber party? Your squad has an allotted base camp inside. That is where you should set up camp

"Let me explain, sir. We are in Squad 425. We are working, clearing ordnance from L5. When we bring up a . . . "

"I don't give a crushed lump of coal what you are doing or not doing on L5. I do not want vagabonds littering my perimeter!"

I don't know what set me off: the weird 'crushed lump of coal' language, the fact that he wouldn't even let me explain, or the fact that he still wasn't looking at me. At least, I managed to keep my hands locked behind myself.

"You don't care what we are doing? Only going down into a hell hole and risking our lives and our minds day after day so that jerks like you don't get blown to smithereens!"

He was not used to having soldiers yell back at him. He was completely silent for several long moments. My fingers were digging into my own wrist. Onyx finally asked "Who is your commanding officer, soldier?"

"Captain Brighton, sir," I answered. By this time some of the security guards had come over to see what was happening.

"Soldier," he said to the security guard. "Take these gentlemen to the detention facility. I will contact Brighton and let him decide what to do with you." He stomped off.

They put all four of us in the same cell. "I'm sorry, guys. I didn't mean to get you in trouble, too," I told them. I put my head on my knees. Whatever control I thought I had over my temper had just vanished. "Marik, Mercurius, you guys didn't even say anything. I can't believe he tossed you in, too." I couldn't stop apologizing.

"Hey, Mercurius, are you sick? You didn't say anything," cracked Delmar.

"I couldn't get a word in edgewise on the Sarge," said Mercurius, shaking his head.

"Sarge, there is something going on here that you don't know about," said Redstone. He was leaning against the door. "This happened because of me, because Colonel Onyx hates me."

"I think my yelling in his face had something to do with it."

"Probably," said Redstone with a wry smile. "But he wouldn't have made such a big deal of it if I hadn't been there. I practically grew up at Onyx's house. His son, Vitus, was my best friend. In fact," he turned to look at me, "remember I told you that it was a friend of mine who shot the Mockingjay? It was Vitus. He just meant to save me. Later that same night, Vitus and I talked to one of the rebels who was guarding us. We told him we were sick of the Capitol and the lies. We wanted to join the rebels. At the time, Onyx had just replaced Brighton as District 2 Commander for the Capitol." He paused. He was halfway turned toward the locked door.

"They just signed you up? Like that?" I asked.

"The rebels brought us in and questioned us both, mostly about the Nut, what was there, how many people. I didn't even feel bad about telling them everything I knew. I figured that since it had collapsed, the information might help save some lives. As a reward for our information they let us join in on the final Capitol assault. I don't know how Vitus convinced them to overlook his attack on the Mockingjay, but he was always good at talking people into things. Or maybe they just needed as much cannon fodder as possible." Once again Redstone stopped. This time he sighed. I waited for him to go on. Marik was as entranced as I was, but Mercurius was staring out of our small, dark window.

Redstone's voice had dropped so that we could barely hear it. "A few blocks from the City Center, Vitus ran into some sort of poison dart pod. He went into convulsions. I tried to help him, our medic tried too, but there was nothing we could do. I was with him when he died."

After a few moments Redstone turned and faced us. "I think that is why he hates me. I am alive and Vitus is dead."

We sat in silence. I wondered whether everyone in this bloody country had wounds they were trying to cope with. Then I thought of a question.

"When did Colonel Onyx become a rebel?"

"I'm not sure exactly. It must have been while we were on the Capitol assault. I was kind of surprised. He always sounded like he hated the rebels so much. When I got back here he was in charge of the Nut," answered Redstone.

"That's a pretty serious demotion from District Commander," noted Delmar.

"I'm sure he's pleased as punch to see Brighton as Base Captain and he's just a colonel, cleaning up a mess," added Mercurius.

"Maybe he wasn't as convincing in his loyalty shift," I thought out loud.

There was a knock at the door and Redstone jumped back. It opened and a guard said "Gentlemen, here are some pillows and blankets. It looks like you are here for the night."

As we settled down to sleep, Marik said "As far as I'm concerned this still beats base camp. Look, you can see the moon out the window." He was probably just trying to make me feel better about screwing up.

"It definitely beats L5," said Redstone.

"Maybe Brighton is mad if he's leaving us here overnight," said Mercurius. "Funny, I had a feeling he wouldn't really mind that you told Onyx where to put it."

I was not looking forward to talking to Captain Brighton tomorrow. Somehow the idea of disappointing him bothered me more than sleeping in a jail cell.

In the morning a guard came by to bring me to Captain Brighton. The others were left behind.

The meeting with Captain Brighton was strange. I had expected him to be angry, but instead he was eerily quiet. He seemed more distracted than mad. He had me explain what happened. I told him the men did nothing wrong, but I was insubordinate. The squad was scheduled for a week of liberty after this job, starting tomorrow. He confined the four of us to quarters for the rest of the day, and told me I would spend the next week at labor, but the rest could go ahead and enjoy their liberty. I was not quite sure what "labor" meant, but he told me to report to him in the morning. I had no other plans made for my liberty. A lot of the squad was going into the Capitol, but I wouldn't miss going with them.

I spent the day reading, studying the difference between _jus ad bellum_ and_ jus in bello_. The others slept, wrote letters, and messed around in the barracks. I was uneasy about where I would be going, what I would be doing the next week, but glad that none of the others had paid a price, besides one night in a jail cell, for my lack of control.

We were not allowed to eat in the mess hall. Instead we were supposed to pick up rations to eat in our barracks. I headed over to the window in the back of the kitchen to get them. As I walked up I saw a familiar face, Beetee.

"Gale, how are you? I've been wanting to talk to you." He was holding a bunch of boxed dinners and standing next to a very young looking girl who also had her arms full of boxes. Apparently they were taking dinner back to everyone in his lab. I tried not to stare at the girl, which was difficult since her face was covered with silver star tattoos.

"Julina, go ahead. I'll be there in a minute," Beetee said to her.

"Is she even 18?" I asked him after she was out of earshot.

"She says she is. I don't believe her. New recruit. Do you have a minute?" he asked.

"Sure," I said. "Although, I do have to get dinner back to my men before too long. Looks like somebody's waiting for you for their dinner, too."

He nodded and stepped back around the corner of the building. "I heard you were on that Commission, the one drafting a war code."

"Yeah, I am."

"Is it true that they are talking about having war crimes trials, about the rebellion?" he asked. He shifted nervously from foot to foot.

"Yes," I answered.

"There're all sorts of rumors flying around. Is it just for the Capitol, for the Peacekeepers? Or can people on the rebel side get charged, too?"

"It's not settled yet, but it looks like anyone can get charged."

He stared at me with large eyes. Finally, he said "You know what that means, don't you?"

"Yeah, I do," I said. Now I knew why he had wanted to talk to me.

"Can you stop them? You have to keep them from having trials, or keep them from including rebels. You have to do something. You could get charged, too." He breathing was coming fast. The top box looked like it might fall off of the pile he was holding.

"Look, Beetee," I said, wondering if it would be possible to calm him down, "the country has to find a way to move forward, to stop all of the hideous things that have happened. And it can't just be one-sided. Everyone has to know that there are things you can't, things you shouldn't, ever do. Think how many people will live better lives in the future. This is bigger than just us."

"But we . . . you don't think . . . they wouldn't send us to prison, would they?" He froze and looked at me with enormous eyes behind his glasses.

"I don't know. They might," I said.

"And you won't stop them."

I just shook my head. He looked like he had something he wanted to say, but instead he turned and hurried away.

The next day, Captain Brighton brought me out to an old jeep. We got in, but before he started the engine he said "I need to explain to you what I have arranged. It is a bit unconventional, so I need to know that you are comfortable with it. As you know, Colonel Onyx is quite upset with you. For me to let you go on your scheduled liberty next week would be an affront to him, although, honestly, if you have already have travel plans I may let you go." He looked at me and I shook my head.

"No, I have no plans," I said.

"I didn't think so. It is my opinion that what you need is a break from the Nut. I am also taking a vacation this week, just going home. I am going to be building a new shed. It is my proposal that you come with me. You need to know that it would be inappropriate for me to force you to work for me, so if you would like to come and do no work at all that is permissible. If you are uncomfortable accompanying me to my home I can make other arrangements, although I cannot let you just wander the base for a week."

"So, that would be my week of labor? Just helping you build a shed?" I asked.

"Yes, what do you say?"

"That'd be great." I had had so many ideas of what labor could be. None of them were that easy.

"It's not exactly a dream vacation," he said, starting the engine.

"Vacation wasn't a word we had in District 12," I answered.

As we drove we talked about the Squad, the Nut, the Commission. When we were almost to the house I asked him about his kids. "There is Flint, he's 12; Galena is 8, and the twins, Lode and Opal, are 5." He paused. "We had another son, Jet. He was 9. He died in the Nut."

"I'd heard," I said. "I'm sorry." I wondered if I should tell him about the role I played in destroying the Nut. He would find out sooner or later. I would rather tell him myself, but we were pulling up to the house and there wasn't time.

His home was log cabin style and up on a mountainside. He pointed out to me the newer part of the house that he had added on after they moved in.

"Are we still in District 2?" I asked. It was hard to get used to how big this district was.

"We are, but just barely."

When we got out of the car he was suddenly mobbed by kids. He hugged them all then introduced me. I was amazed to see how suddenly he was happy and relaxed.

His oldest two said "Hi," dipped their heads at me, and then grabbed our bags out of the jeep. The little ones stood looking at him expectantly.

"I wonder if I remembered to bring any candy this time," Brighton said. The little girl started to jump up and down with excitement. Brighton reached into his pocket and held out candies to them. They each kissed his cheek, grabbed a candy and ran off.

The week that followed was the best week I had had in more than a year. Captain Brighton's wife, Peri, was a great cook and that wasn't just compared with the mess hall. Every morning I went for a run on the mountain. A couple of times Brighton came with me and he kept up pretty well. During the days we worked on building the shed, with some trips into town for supplies. When Brighton found out I had never driven a car before he let me learn on the army's jeep. We actually finished the building in 4 days, but then spent the rest of the time putting in the door, adding shelves, running an electric line, then loading it up, basically making it into a deluxe shed. I tried not to gawk at how much stuff he had. Flint and Galena helped where they could and Lode and Opal ran around asking questions and playing.

They let me use their phone for my weekly phone call to Annie. Same as usual. Katniss was alright, not good, but slowly getting better and no, they didn't need anything. Peri insisted that I also call my mom. I told her that I should be able to come home for a short visit sometime soon.

It was midsummer and warm during the afternoons, but there was a lake nearby where we went after we finished with the shed for the day. We swam and had water fights and worked on teaching the twins how to swim. It was nice to be around a family again. I even enjoyed listening to the kids argue. At night, after feasting, I camped outside. They didn't really have an extra room and I still liked to sleep under the stars as part of my Nut recovery.

The day before we were supposed to leave, Captain Brighton and Peri went into town to do some shopping and have dinner alone while I watched the kids. We took one last swim in the lake, then made a fire in the fire pit behind the house and cooked hot dogs. The kids taught me how to make s'mores, an amazing secret recipe saved in District 2 from days long past. After dinner I let them mess around a bit outside before bed.

I sat on the back stairs, watching the clouds. It was starting to get dark. Then I heard crying. I went to go see what was wrong. It was Opal. She said that she didn't want to play with the others anymore; they weren't being nice.

"They keep making me be the Mockingjay," she complained.

She didn't notice my quick intake of breath. Of course not. She had no way of knowing . . .

"What's wrong with that?" I asked her.

"I don't want to be the bad guy. I don't want to be scary," she said, sniffling.

"Come here," I said, going to the back porch stairs. "Would you like for me to tell you a story?"

She nodded and I helped her wipe her tears away.

"I'll tell you the real story of the Mockingjay," I said. She climbed up on my knee.

"Once upon a time there was a girl, a lot like you, who was playing in the forest with her friend. But her country was cursed with an evil magician who used his spells to spy on the people, to make them his slaves. He spied the girl through his magic spying glass. She was free and happy and he hated that. As she was on her way home he swooped down on her, kidnapped her and locked her in a high tower in his palace. He was going to keep her there until the great feast when he was going to force her to battle wild animals so he and his guests could laugh at her.

"One of her guards had pity on her since she was only a child. He brought her a golden pin in the shape of a mockingjay, just for her to play with. He did not know that long ago it had been a magic pin. Alone in her tower she talked to the pin, played with it.

"Soon the day of the feast came. The magician and his friends gathered around a large ring. They brought in the little girl. They put her in the ring with cages full of tigers, lions, wild boars and bears. She had kept the pin with her because it had become her only friend. When she saw the beasts she would have to fight she was terrified. They began to open the cages one by one and the hungry beasts came out. The girl fell on her knees and called for help, as she held tight to the mockingjay pin. Because she had such a pure heart her cry awoke the good magic which had fallen asleep in the kingdom. As the beasts grew closer and closer, the pin began to shake and glow in her hand. Just as the first of the lions reached her she began to change. She grew smaller and smaller, darker and darker until, at last, she had become a mockingjay. The lion stood there confused as she flew away, up into the open sky and escaped from the hungry beasts forever."

"Yeah, she got away!" interrupted Opal. By now Lode and Galena were also sitting on the steps. Flint was sitting on a nearby rock, whittling a stick and definitely not listening to a little kids' story. "But what happened? Did she get to go home? Did she stay a mockingjay forever?"

"Well, now that the girl knew about the evil magician she flew about the whole country warning the people and telling them about the wicked things he had done. Then she sang them her beautiful mockingjay song and it helped them see that things could be better. So they banded together and they stormed the palace. They threw out the evil magician and released the true king who had been held prisoner in the dungeon." I paused, trying to decide how to finish the story.

"What happened to the girl?" asked Opal. She was sleepy now.

"No one knows," I said. "She disappeared forever. Some people say that she found a distant island to live on and a handsome prince was able to turn her back into a real girl, but some people say that she stayed a mockingjay forever and flew around the world, singing her song and giving people hope."

I carried Opal inside. I was surprised to see that Captain Brighton and his wife were back, sitting in the kitchen. The captain said that he would put the others to bed and Mrs. Brighton said she was putting on tea. After I tucked Opal in, I came back downstairs. Mrs. Brighton gave me some tea.

"How was your evening, Mrs. Brighton?" I asked, just making conversation while I stood and drank the tea.

"I really wish you would call me 'Peri,'" she said. She had asked me to before, but it just felt too odd. She offered me a plate of cookies. Another thing I could get used to. "We had a lovely dinner. Thank you so much for watching the kids. How did things go here?"

"Fine," I said. "The kids were great."

"We heard your story. Did you just make that up?" she asked as she put away dishes from earlier in the day.

I was a bit embarrassed that I had had more of an audience than I knew about. "Yeah, I used to make up stories for my little sister."

After a bit Peri said "Al says she's not really your cousin."

I sighed. Of course, I knew who she was talking about. "No, she used to be my friend."

"Have you talked to her since . . . ." She didn't seem to want to finish that sentence.

"No, but I call the girl she's staying with and check on her every week."

"But you don't talk to her?" she asked.

I sighed. Then I realized that Peri knew something about grief. Maybe she would know . . . . "I have to keep an eye on her. I promised someone I would. I want to talk to her, but I don't want to rush things. I want to give her time to heal. But I don't know . . . how much time . . . how to know?"

"Hmm, what does the girl she is staying with say? Is it Annie?" I had forgotten that she would know who Annie was.

"Yeah. She says Katniss was pretty messed up at first, but now is pulling herself together. She's hunting again," I said, ". . . _without me_." "And," I wondered if I should mention the other thing that was bothering me, the thing that made me afraid of waiting too long. Well, if I wanted good advice . . . . "Annie has two brothers. They are over there a lot." I didn't want to say anymore, partly out of superstition, not to make it true.

"If Annie says she's doing better, and it's been, what, almost six months. Maybe it's time. Although," . . . she paused.

"What?"

"Just don't call right at six months. Anniversaries, 1 year, half a year, exact dates are rough," she said softly.

I remembered that. The day my dad died was hard, every year. Strange. I didn't know what day it was when Prim died. I needed to find out.

"I'm going to turn in now," I said, giving her back the empty mug. I stopped at the door. "Thanks, for everything." I hoped she knew I meant the advice, the cookies, the whole week.

In the jeep on the way back to base I realized that there was still something I had to tell Captain Brighton. It was not going to be easy.

"Sir," I started. He had told me to call him "Al," but I wasn't going to do that. "There's something you need to know . . . about me, about the Nut and . . . the avalanche." It was hard even to say that word.

"What?" he said. "That it was your idea to start the avalanche?"

I was so shocked I couldn't say anything. Then I choked out "You knew?"

"Beetee told me, but it was because I asked him a lot of questions. I checked you out pretty thoroughly before asking you to lead the clean-up squad."

I sat back and looked up at the sky. My brain couldn't seem to fit this new information in. Then I knew that I still had something I needed to say.

"I'm sorry. We shouldn't have done it. I wasn't really thinking . . . . I didn't realize that . . ." I didn't know what to say. What was my excuse? So I said "I'm just sorry."

"Listen, Gale," said the captain. "I appreciate that you are sorry, that you didn't know there were innocent kids in there. The kids shouldn't have been kept in there. But I don't think the Capitol would have fallen if the Nut hadn't been taken down. I don't think there was another way. Look, I did what I had to do. You did what you had to do. You can't beat yourself up about it forever. But it is why I wanted you on the Commission. You have been in the thick of battle, where hard decisions are made. And you know how hard it is to live with those decisions later."

He was still driving. I was glad he was not looking right at me. I wanted to say that I was sorry for the things that I wanted to do that we didn't do, but what was the point of that? It didn't matter. I was just sorry that I hadn't cared about his pain.

This was going to take a while to process. And I still had one more apology to do.

**Thanks for all your help, IrishLuck19. Someday I will figure out past tense versus present tense. **

**Thanks again for the reviews:**

**MountainAir**

**JessicaClairee**

**GraceVictoria**

**Iluvdinos**

**Soul's Anima**

**Solaryllis**

**HopeNeverDies**

**EchoDeltaNine**


	13. The Caller

**BTW – In case you have forgotten – I am not Suzanne Collins. In fact, I sometimes even take her name in vain. I do not own any of the situations, settings or characters from the Hunger Games books. But I do have strong opinions about them.**

**The Caller**

I had a plan and Finnie was helping me. Not that he knew that. He would probably be against messing with his mother.

It was Sunday night. It had been a warm day, uncomfortably warm to everyone but me. I wondered if I would feel an inner cold for the rest of my life.

Susan was outside pulling some weeds, now that the heat of the day was over. Annie had, once again, asked me to put Finnie to bed. He was a sweet baby, whose face fell easily into a chubby smile. I liked to rock him, let his warmth sink into me as I read to him. Not tonight.

I was changing his diaper before I put him into his pajamas. He was eating a larger variety of food lately and this job was getting more gross. This one wasn't really any worse than usual, but it was enough for my purposes.

"Annie!" I called downstairs, trying to put a touch of panic in my voice. "There's something weird about Finnie's . . ." Annie was already flying up the stairs.

"What?" she asked. "What's wrong?"

I beckoned her over. I was holding Finnie's ankles up in my left hand. I moved aside to let Annie in and she took his legs from me. Perfect. Now she was snared.

"Isn't that a strange color?" I asked.

Right on time, the phone rang. Annie's pale face jerked up; she did not want me to answer it. But I was already on my way downstairs.

I was slightly out of breath from my shenanigans when I picked it up: "Hello."

There was no answer. At first I thought maybe no one was there, then I remembered that whoever it was had been expecting Annie's voice. Would they answer?

"Hello, Katniss."

I almost dropped the phone. My voice left me. Emotions flew through my mind: shock, anger, memory.

"Katniss?" Now the silence was on my end of the line.

I swallowed to try to wet my throat and answered: "Gale." I took a deep breath, leaned into the kitchen counter for support and said "So, you are Annie's mystery caller." My voice was emotionless, dry, which was fitting since my mind was still reeling and I had no idea what I was thinking.

"Yeah," he said. After a silence he added "I didn't want to bother you. I just wanted to make sure you were . . . . I just wanted to check on you."

Suddenly I knew what I was thinking. "You didn't want to bother me? Give me a break! You didn't want to deal with me. Annie's sweet, but I'm not. You have no business calling here. Not after what you did. Not after what you took from me. How dare you check on me?" Annie was on the stairs, with Finnie on her hip, looking horrified. I didn't care. I only stopped because I was short of breath and my mind had gone black with rage.

There was silence. He should just hang up. That would be fine. Then I would be done with him.

"Katniss," he said – why wasn't he fighting back? – "I want to come see you. I need to talk to you."

"I don't need to talk to you," I snapped.

"But you do need to hear what I have to say. Just once. I'll leave as soon as you ask me to, but I am going to come. I have to." He was so bull-headed. My mind filled with images - slapping him, hitting him, shooting him.

"You'll be sorry if you do," I said. I went to slam the phone down, but Annie was there. She grabbed it from my hand. I let her. She was good to me and I wasn't going to fight her.

I slammed the back door as I went out onto the porch. I crouched down and covered my head with my arms. I could still hear her say "Gale, its Annie. I'm sorry." Of course, she was sorry. He hadn't killed her sister. "Are you sure?" she asked. So he was sticking to his plan. What a jerk. "That'll be fine," she said. "You can stay down the road with my brothers. See you then. Bye." She hung up.

I looked at her. "He's coming," she said. "In two weeks."

* * *

I opened the back door as quietly as I could, but it didn't matter. Annie was standing right there at the sink.

"Hi," she said. "How'd it go?"

"Nothing," I said. I felt my cheeks burn. That was stupid. We were not going to go hungry. My hunting now was just for variety and so we could buy some extras.

I went into the living room to take off my boots. Annie followed me.

"Is everything okay?" she asked.

"Fine." I had knotted one of my laces and I couldn't get the knot out now.

Still, Annie stood there. After a minute she said "You seem . . . tense."

I yanked on the stubborn lace and it broke. "Of course I'm tense," I snapped. "My husband died." Without decent hunting I would not be able to buy new laces for my boots. Great.

"Do you want to talk?" Annie asked.

"No," I said. I yanked off my boot despite the knot and stomped upstairs.

Upstairs I sat on my bed with my head in my hands. I needed to get myself back under control. Tomorrow I would do some serious hunting. No more yelling in the woods. I had stopped leaving out snares so I would get nothing unless I kept myself quiet and focused on getting some kills. It was August. The forest was full of animals. I should do fine tomorrow. Unless they were all still hiding after today's shouting.

* * *

He arrived right on schedule on Saturday evening. Annie's brothers picked him up at the train station and brought him over. I heard them come in the front door, but I stayed in the living room. I heard him greet Annie with a hug. I could picture her gesturing towards me, then fleeing to the kitchen. And there he was. He moved so silently. Was he still trying to show off? Show that he was better than Peeta?

He sat down on the coffee table across from me, a Seam boy, not used to decent furniture.

"Hello, Katniss."

"Yeah," was all I could manage.

"How are you?"

"Just great." I stared at my hands, clenched between my knees.

"We need to talk," he said.

"So talk," I said.

"Not here," he said. "Let's go for a walk."

"Not now. It's dinnertime."

I finally forced my eyes up and looked at him. He was different now, more soldier. He had the standard short army haircut. His stance was straighter. Good. He was different, not the boy who had once been my friend, my best friend.

Annie was being ridiculous. She had fixed a regular feast. She had clam chowder, corn on the cob, bread, salad, and a huge wild turkey I had killed. Gale was ready to dig in and almost did when he realized that these were civilized people who were pausing a moment to say thanks. I had been hoping he wouldn't be able to eat the turkey, but no, it didn't bother him at all. So I had some too. If he didn't care, why should I?

But I couldn't eat much. I wasn't hungry. I spent my time chopping up small pieces of my meat and giving them to Finnie. Annie, Susan, Jonah and Davy asked Gale questions about his life. He told them about his squad, clearing the Nut. He just kept bragging about all the great things he was doing. I had nothing to say. Then Annie brought out blueberry pie. They all went nuts, like they had never seen a pie before. Then they laughed about Finnie being totally purple with pie all over his face. Gross.

After dinner we all helped Annie clear. Annie started to wash the dishes. I said I would dry, but Susan already had the towel.

I turned and Gale was there. "Let's go for a walk, down by the shore."

"I don't have my shoes."

"I'll wait."

I left him in the kitchen and went upstairs to get my boots. I was in no hurry. I pulled on my boots and went to tie the new laces. My hands were shaking. I took a deep breath. My heart was pounding, too. This was stupid.

Outside we walked down to the shore.

"It's beautiful here," he said. "I've never seen the ocean before." That's right. He wasn't on the Victory Tour.

He turned to me. "How are you, really?"

"I was fine. Until _you_ got here."

"That's fair," he said. I raised my eyebrows. He continued: "That's why I had to come. I have to somehow let you know how sorry I am."

"You can't be sorry enough," I said.

"Probably not, but still I need to tell you that you were right. I was wrong, horribly wrong. I should never have designed those bombs, never even have had that idea."

I said nothing. What he was saying was true, but it didn't change anything. He couldn't change anything.

He squatted down and drew lines in the sand. He stared out at the ocean, talking almost to himself. "I was in custody in the Capitol when I saw what happened. There was . . . stuff going on in the hall and I didn't see the parachutes with the bombs, any of that. I just saw enough to see Prim there . . . with the medics and then . . ." - he clenched his hand into the sand – "they exploded and she was gone."

I caught my breath. I still felt pain in my chest when I thought of that day.

"I had never thought about how much Prim meant to me before," he said.

What was he talking about? He had no right to care about Prim. He had murdered her. But he kept going.

"I had never realized that she was more to me than just your little sister. But I knew then how much I cared about her. She was so small, so kind, so strong. I despised whoever could do such a thing. Then they replayed the whole thing and I knew it was me. I had killed her."

There was no sound but the soft roar of the ocean, the waves rolling into the sand again and again. I looked out at the sea and wondered who this was who was talking to me. I felt hollow. My sister was gone. The Gale Hawthorne I had known was gone. This was Prim's murderer. He had just said so himself.

He stood up and came over to me. I crossed my arms across my chest and turned my face away from him.

"Katniss," he said. "I didn't come here to be your friend again. I don't deserve it. I just wanted you to know that I am sorry. I'm sorry for all of the things I did, all of the ideas I had. I'm sorry that I didn't see what you saw, didn't see that I had become one of them."

We stood in silence. I had nothing to say to him.

"I had hoped you might forgive me." He turned toward the ocean and spoke so softly that I could barely hear him. "Even if you can't I wanted you to know I would give anything to be able to take back what I have done."

"But you can't," I muttered, not looking at him. "She is gone forever and there is nothing you can do about it."

"I know," he said. "Good bye." And he walked away and left me standing, alone, on the beach.

I had wanted to yell at him, wanted him to try to defend what he had done so that I could rip him apart. But he didn't.

I stood looking out at the darkening sky. The waves tumbled and twirled and my mind was spinning. I don't know what I had expected from Gale, but it wasn't this. The tough soldier had vanished and he had seemed smaller, broken. I never thought I would hear him say those words. But they couldn't take away the ache in my heart. I don't know how long I stood there, transfixed by the waves as they endlessly pounded into the sand.

* * *

At last, I went back up to the house. I had thought I knew Gale, knew him better than anyone. Now he was a stranger to me. I felt odd, unmoored.

Annie was alone in the kitchen when I got there. She must have put Finnie to bed. Susan usually went to bed early, too. The boys had left. I glanced at Annie, then I had to look back again. She looked so different. Her face was hard and there was a fire in her eyes.

"Where did he go?" she asked in a voice that demanded an answer.

"He left."

"Did he apologize?"

"Quite a bit."

"And you didn't forgive him?" She crossed her arms in front of herself.

"No. He can't undo what he did."

"And what exactly was it that he did to you?" she asked.

I didn't have to tell her the whole thing. But after all she'd done for me I owed her some answers. And looking at her, I thought she might throttle me if I didn't explain.

I clenched my jaw and looked at the table. "He designed the bombs that killed Prim. They were setting traps and they made bombs that went off in two stages. One to kill, they killed innocent children with that one. Then the second stage later, so that they would go off when the medics had arrived."

"That is hideous," said Annie.

"Prim was one of those medics."

"Oh." She sat down at the table. I sat down, too. I felt deflated. I stared out the window over the sink.

"Did he say he was sorry for designing the bombs?" she asked.

"What difference does it make?" I said, more loudly than I had meant to. "It's done. He killed her. She's gone."

Annie dropped her head down into her fingers. She sighed. "Do you know what happened to me in the Arena?"

I stared at her. What did that have to do with anything? Why was everyone dropping their dark secrets on me tonight?

But I said to her "No, not really."

"His name was Ray, Ray Trawler. I hadn't known him before, before we were reaped, but he was a good guy, from a big family. We agreed to work together. He was mostly helping me. He was older, stronger, smarter. He could throw a trident, set traps with nets, kill food with his knife. The only things I could help with were starting fires and finding berries and roots we could eat. And I could hear more than he could. I heard things coming before they got to us. We did okay together, better than we had expected. We got down to the last seven alive.

"I started to think about how it would have to end. Either he would have to kill me or I would have to kill him. We didn't talk about it, but I know he was thinking the same thing. He was the one who said that we should split up. It was awful, thinking that, hoping that, someone else would kill him. So I agreed, and he left.

"As he walked off into the woods, I heard a sound. It was faint, but it was human. I knew that someone was waiting in there to kill Ray. I stood up and started to call to him, to warn him. Then I stopped and I thought – wasn't that what I wanted, for someone else to kill him? So I didn't yell. I didn't say anything." Annie's head hung down. I had never seen her look so miserable.

"I changed my mind after I heard the attack. I ran after Ray. I don't know why. It was not like I could really help him, but I couldn't leave him alone. By the time I reached the clearing Ray was hurt, bad. He was on his knees. I got there just in time to see this Career giant take a swing with his sword and cut Ray's head completely off.

"I started screaming. Even as I ran away in a panic I was still screaming. Then I heard others coming. I finally stopped screaming. I fell into this little ditch. There was an opening, some kind of animal den, and I hid in there. I heard this horrible battle above as the Career killed some of the others. I tried covering my ears, but I could still hear everything.

"Even after I got out of the Arena, I felt like I could hear things other people didn't hear. I had been given the gift of excellent hearing, but I hadn't used it when Ray needed me to, so it became a curse. I spent more than a year out of my mind. I knew that I was just as bad as the Gamemakers. I had killed Ray. The guilt was ripping me up inside. I hardly ate or drank. They kept having to hook me up to IVs to keep me alive."

"Annie," I interrupted. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Just listen," she said. She went on with her story.

"Then Finnick came. He listened to my ravings and he understood, maybe because he had been in the Arena, maybe because he had the guilt, too. He calmed me down and then he told me what I needed to do. He was always a little bit crazy, but he was smart about people. I had to go talk to Ray's family, tell them what I had done, apologize. My mother was horrified, but I knew that it was what I needed to do. Finnick went with me.

"And I did it. I told them everything. I cried and told them it was my fault that Ray was dead. His father looked at me with cold eyes that tore into my heart. He knew I had killed his son and he hated me. But his mother opened her arms to me. She hugged me and told me that I was forgiven. She didn't say that I hadn't done anything wrong, but she told me to let it go. And we cried on each other's shoulders.

"It wasn't until after that that I could love Finnick. I still had, still have, episodes where I feel I can hear everything that is happening in the world. But mostly, I am okay now. Because I was forgiven."

We sat at the table, across from each other, both wrestling with our memories, memories that no one should have.

At last I said "Annie, I don't know if I can do it. I don't know if I can forgive him."

She looked up and stared at me across the table. "You are angry with him because he had no mercy. He made plans without seeing that the people he would kill were human, too, that they had families who loved them, that they deserved to live. He didn't mean to kill Prim, but it wasn't until she died that he could see that even in war, even in the Arena, you have to have a heart. There are things you cannot do.

"Gale didn't have mercy on nameless, faceless people he was fighting against in a war. You are not showing mercy to someone who used to be your best friend and who seriously regrets what he did."

I sighed. I got up and went over to Annie and gave her a hug.

* * *

That night as I lay in bed the room was swirling. I felt like I had had too much alcohol to drink, but I hadn't had any. Then I felt as though I was shrinking down to nothing. The universe was above me, massive, eternal, and I was so small. Prim was gone. Peeta was gone. Gale was gone. I looked out my window and saw the full moon. I thought that if I kept my eyes on the moon I would not disappear. It would hold me and keep me from disintegrating. I stared at the moon and tried to find some answers.

**Thanks as always to IrishLuck19 and congrats on your amazing week!**

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**Peeta the Frosting Prince**


	14. Sunrise

**Don't own the Hunger Games, Catching Fire or Mockingjay. Never get royalty checks from any of them. Sigh.**

**Sunrise**

I had told myself that I was just coming here to apologize, that it didn't matter what Katniss said or did, whether she forgave me or not, I just had to say I was sorry. Now I had done it. I wasn't good with words, but I did the best I could. She had to know I was sorry.

But she still hated me.

I lay in the bed in a huge guest room in the boys' house. I could smell the salt from the ocean in the air, could almost taste it. I saw the moon out of my window, full and bright, rising over the dark sea.

I spent thirteen hours on a high speed train to get here today and tomorrow I would get back on the train. I had to. Because there was nothing else I could do. And because I couldn't stand to make Katniss so unhappy. She had enough to deal with.

I deserved this. If she had killed Posy I would hate her, wouldn't I? But she would never have done anything like that so I couldn't picture it. On the train, on the way here, I tried to figure out what it was about Katniss that made her matter so much to me, what it was that made her so different from everyone else. I knew even thinking about it would be opening an old wound. But I did it. Now the wound was open and who knew how long it would take to heal.

Mercurius was the one who gave me that advice. It was stupid to listen to him, because he didn't understand what was going on. But he told me that the best way to compliment a woman was not to say something about what she looked like, but who she was, what made her different, special. And to do that you had to know her.

I knew Katniss. I thought about everything about her – how she talked, how she walked, how she hunted; how her jaw tightened when she was refusing to cry, how her eyes narrowed just before a kill, how her cheeks softened while she was asleep. I had reopened the wound. Why? If I was just here to apologize, if I really didn't think we could ever be friends, or anything else, again, I wouldn't need to compliment her. I wouldn't need Mercurius's advice.

But, of course, I had been hoping for more.

So now I would just have to keep what I had figured out about her to myself, and get back on the train.

I stared out the window at the moon and tried to remember that I deserved this pain.

* * *

Sometime before dawn I gave up. I could sleep on the train. The moon was pulling me down to the shore; I wanted to see the ocean one last time. I got up, put on some shorts and an old yellow t-shirt, and went out. I started out jogging, then went into a run, then flat-out sprinted trying to go far enough and fast enough to drive all thought out of my head, but the pain was still there.

I quickly discovered that the best way to run on the sand is to find the place between the surf and the dry sand where the sand was wet and firm. It meant occasional waves would catch me, but that was fine. I hadn't bothered with shoes. The moon silhouetted me on the beach. The shore was mostly smooth white sand, interrupted by jagged rocks. A few miles out I found a rock outcropping and climbed out on it. The sky was still dark.

The ocean was amazing. It was different in the night - black, menacing. I thought of how many boats it had eaten, how many sailors never came home. Did the people of District 4 think of the ocean as we thought of the mines – a place they were forced to work? A place that killed their loved ones? But how could they? Even in the dark, it was so big, so open. It made me feel free just to look at it. And no matter what the Capitol did, what the Peacekeepers did, what life did, it would still be there: untouchable.

On the way back I had the forest on one side, the ocean on the other. I could hear noises as the creatures started to wake. I ached to go into the woods with Katniss, but that wasn't going to happen. At least she was hunting again; that would be good for her.

I came around a point and I could see Annie's house, watching down over the beach. Then I noticed the large rock on the beach, near where we had walked, fought, yesterday. There was someone sitting on the rock. As I got closer I could see it was Katniss, sitting holding her knees, looking up at the moon. I stopped and leaned over onto my legs, trying to catch my breath.

I could see her face from where I was, shining in the moonlight. She didn't look angry anymore. Then again I wasn't there yet. Still she looked peaceful, beautiful. Maybe she was the one who had pulled me to the beach, like the moon pulls the tide. Should I disturb her solitude? She wasn't expecting to find anyone out at this hour. Just then she turned and saw me. Now I couldn't just leave. I ran the rest of the way to her.

"Good morning," I said.

"Hi." At least she was talking to me, a little. "Kind of early for a run, isn't it?"

"I guess," I answered, pacing, my heart still pounding from my run. "Kind of early to be out looking at the ocean, isn't it?"

"Either kind of early or very late."

"Can I come up?" I asked after a few minutes.

"Yeah," she answered. I climbed up on the rock and sat next to her.

She seemed cold, but I knew better than to try to put my arm around her now.

"I couldn't sleep," she said.

"Me, either."

"Annie let me have it last night."

"She did? I can't picture that. She's always so nice."

"I couldn't imagine it before either." She was still staring out at the moon. "She thinks I should forgive you." We were actually having a civilized conversation, but her voice was flat. I couldn't read what she was thinking.

"At least someone's on my side," I said. She didn't say anything. The sky was sliding from black to blue. "I think I know why you can't forgive me," I said as I watched the stars fade away.

"You do? Then tell me."

I took a deep breath. "One of the best things about you, Katniss, is how loyal you are. That's why you couldn't choose between me and Peeta before. You were loyal to both of us and you didn't want to hurt either one of us. Now, you are being loyal to Prim. You think you would be betraying her if you forgave me." The water was changing, white caps gently lapping the shore. Even if I was right it might not help anything.

"It's more than that." The finality in her voice made my stomach clench.

"What?"

"I trusted you. You were the only one I trusted to look out for her, to take care of her. I couldn't even count on my mother. But I thought I could count on you."

I closed my eyes. I was back in the Capitol, knowing I was the monster again. She was right. I had let her down, betrayed her trust. I realized that my head was between my knees, my hands clutched behind my neck. I shouldn't have come.

"Gale?" I felt her hand on my arm. I wanted to push her away, but I couldn't move.

"You're right," I spoke down at the rock, my voice shaking.

"Are you okay?"

"No." I would never be okay.

"The problem is I know what Prim would want me to do." Her voice was barely a whisper.

"That's too easy. Prim was too nice," I said, forcing myself to sit up and face her.

"I know. But that's why I loved her. Shouldn't I try to be more like her?"

"I can't answer that." Prim's sweet face filled my mind – flashes of her. The first time I met her, she was just a little thing, but she asked me to keep Katniss safe in the woods. One morning when I woke up early to go hunting – Posy had a fever and Prim was asleep next to her, curled around her on the tiny mattress.

"She wasn't always nice, not when she thought someone was going to hurt you. During your first Games she couldn't watch when we thought Clove was going to kill you. But when Thresh bashed in Clove's head she jumped up and cheered. I was shocked. I had never seen that kind of malice in Prim's eyes before."

"Really?" Katniss looked at me. "I didn't know that." She was silent again. I didn't know what else to say. I decided to just enjoy what might be my last chance to sit next to Katniss.

"I don't know what to do," she said. Her voice quivered. I turned to look at her. I wanted to comfort her, tell her it would be okay, but I couldn't.

The sky was now almost gray.

"I think I can forgive you if you make me a promise," she said.

"What promise?" I asked. Did she want me to promise to leave and never see her again?

Katniss turned and looked at me with both eyes, glistening silver. "Promise me you won't ever let me forget Prim."

"I don't need to. You won't ever forget Prim," I said.

"How do you know?" she asked.

"Because I won't ever forget her and she wasn't even my little sister."

"Tell me again that you are sorry," she said. This time her eyes were gentle. I knew what she was doing.

I closed my eyes. Then I opened them and looked at her. "Katniss, I am sorry with my whole mind, body and soul that I ever had that idea, that I ever said anything about it, that I ever had any part of that. I am so sorry."

"Gale, I forgive you," she said. She reached over and hugged me and I clung to her until I had to remind myself not to hurt her. Finally, she let go. She sat next to me and put her head on my shoulder. I felt stunned. I guess part of me had not believed she would ever forgive me. We watched as the first rays of sun burst over the water.

* * *

"How long are you staying?" she finally asked.

I thought about telling her that I was going to leave today, but I wasn't in the mood to mess with her. "I have a week of leave," I said.

"Good. I want to show you the forest."

The sun was almost up now. The sky was full of what had been wispy white clouds. Now they blazed scarlet, rimmed with gold.

"I never saw anything like this back home," I said.

"Because we didn't have an ocean," said Katniss with a faint smile.

"Annie's lucky to have a house here. Didn't she have a place in some kind of Victor's Village?"

"She lived there before. It's in town. But when she came back, she and her mom came here. It's where she grew up."

"By the way, do they have any kind of a curfew? I don't want to get in trouble for keeping you out too late," I said.

"You think all night might be too late?"

"Come on," I said, jumping down from the rock. I held my hand out to help Katniss and she took it. My heart jumped. It felt great just to touch her. After she was down she kept hold of my hand as we walked up to the house. I wondered if she could hear my heart pounding.

When we reached the back steps Katniss turned to me and said "Friends?" I took the hand that I was still holding, gave it a handshake, and said "Friends." She went into the house.

As I walked back to the boys' house I tried to sort through all of the things I was feeling. Sitting on the rock I had felt more peaceful than I had for months, maybe years. Even now I felt as though a great weight had been lifted off of me, like I was on a different planet where gravity's pull was not as strong.

But there was also an ache in my gut that told me that there was something wrong. This morning I thought Katniss would hate me forever. I thought I would be happy if we could just be friends. But maybe I shouldn't have shaken her hand and agreed to friendship. I was right back to where I started years ago in the woods of District 12. But now I knew – I was not going to be able to settle with being just friends, even best friends, with Katniss.

* * *

Back at the boys' house, I showered. I had thought about trying to get some sleep, but I wasn't tired at all. I knew it would hit me later. Jonah and Davy were gone, clamming. It was weird to be alone in this big house. I was very hungry. I checked their kitchen and found some bread and butter. I washed it down with some milk and decided to go back over to Annie's. Katniss would probably be asleep, but Annie and her mom would be up.

I had less than one week to make Katniss fall in love with me. Why did it feel so urgent? Because I was going to have to go back down into the depths of the Nut? Because she would be here, on the shore, with Annie's brothers just down the road? Maybe it was because I had already waited long enough for her. Or maybe Peeta's death reminded me that we didn't know how much time any of us would have.

I should have gotten more advice from Mercurius. This was his specialty. Katniss couldn't be more different from the girls he was used to in the Capitol. But still, he would have more ideas than I did.

I tried to remember that I shouldn't rush her. She was still mourning Peeta. She had really cared about him. One thing I couldn't do was make light of that.

By the time I reached Annie's I still had no idea what to do next.

The front door was open. Was that safe? I knocked lightly on the door frame. "Hello," I called softly. I didn't want to wake Katniss. She needed to get some sleep.

"We're in the kitchen," Annie's voice answered.

As I reached the kitchen I said "Hi, is Katniss sleeping in?"

"Yeah," said Annie. She had Finnie sitting on the counter and was washing him off. "Were you up all night, too?"

"I was," I said. "But I wasn't . . . but not with Katniss. I mean, I was at the boys' house. She was here. I went out running early and ran into her." Suddenly I knew I was flaming red. Annie didn't turn around, but she laughed at my stammering.

"Did you have any breakfast?" she asked.

"Not really."

She turned and handed Finnie to me. "Mom is already out gardening. Why don't you boys get acquainted while I make you something? Eggs and toast sound good?"

"Sure." Finnie looked at me skeptically. I made a goofy face and got him to smile. "Is he walking yet?"

"Almost. He stands up and thinks about it. But he still loves to crawl. All over the place. Keep an eye on him. He's faster than he looks."

"So am I," I said. I put Finnie down on the floor and sat down next to him. He immediately headed over to try to open one of the kitchen drawers. I kept it closed with my hand.

"That one's okay," Annie said. "I only keep stuff he can play with in there." I let Finnie open the drawer; he pulled out a large spoon and started to suck on it.

"So, Katniss told me that you let her have it last night," I said.

Now it was Annie's turn to blush. "Well, we had a bit of a talk. Have you guys patched things up, then?"

"Yeah, at least she doesn't hate me anymore," I said as I handed Finnie a funnel. He dropped his spoon, frowned at the funnel and then put it on his head. I found another one and put it on my head. Finnie laughed out loud. He started babbling, telling me something, but I couldn't make out a word.

Annie smiled. "You seem used to kids," she said as she cracked eggs into a bowl.

"I'm the oldest. I have two brothers and a little sister. I was 14 when she was born so I took care of her a lot." I didn't mention why I had to take care of Posy so much. Annie might already know the story about my dad and Katniss's. I wasn't sure.

"Lucky girl," she said. "I'm the youngest. My brothers were just 2 and 4 when I was born. They tormented me a lot."

"Maybe you learned some skills that were useful in the Arena," I said. Annie stiffened and her hands twitched. What an idiot I was to bring up the Games. "I'm sorry," I said. "I shouldn't have said that."

"No, it's okay." She relaxed a little. "But all they had taught me was how to shoot spitballs and be quick with a snappy comeback. Nothing very lethal there. I was an accidental Victor. Not like Katniss who has some real skill."

"It's good that she's hunting again," I said, glad to find a new subject.

"Yeah, she's gotten us a ton of game. Although it's funny. The last two weeks her hunting's been way off." She looked at me meaningfully and put a plate of eggs and toast on the table. My stomach growled and I got up off the floor.

"Sorry if my visit blew your squirrel supply," I said as I sat at the table. Annie poured two cups of coffee and sat down, laughing.

"No problem. It was just strange to see Katniss so flustered."

"Thanks for all you have done for her." I took a big bite of eggs. They were delicious.

"No problem. We widows have to stick together. You've done your share, too."

I shook my head. "There was not much I could do. Besides, I had to. I had a promise to keep."

Annie raised her eyebrows at me. "To Katniss?"

"No. To Peeta." I took another bite of eggs and wondered if I should tell her. It wasn't exactly a secret, but I wasn't sure how Katniss would feel about it. Annie was giving Finnie some stacked plastic cups to play with. Then she sat up and looked at me expectantly.

"To Peeta?"

After all Annie had done I could at least give her some explanation. "It started a long time ago, just before the Quarter Quell. Peeta came to me and made me promise that I would take care of Katniss if anything happened to him. That wasn't even hard. I was planning to anyway. So when 'something' did happen to him I watched over her." I paused. There was more to this story, but I wasn't sure I wanted to tell Annie. I took another bite of eggs. Annie looked at me intently.

"So then what?" She wasn't going to let me off that easily.

"Just before the execution, when Katniss ended up shooting Coin, I went and found Peeta in the Capitol. I had to see what kind of shape he was in. It turned out he was doing pretty well, slowly pulling himself back together. I was a mess though. So I made him promise me that he would take care of her, not hurt her, but watch over her."

"So the promise went back the other way."

I nodded. I hadn't told anyone about this before.

"And then . . ."

"I didn't actually talk to Peeta before he died. He called me, but I was going off on an assignment and couldn't call him back. When we got back, it was too late. But I knew why he had called me. I knew what he was going to say."

"So you watched over her again."

"Yeah." Annie looked at me over her coffee. "Of course, there was more to it than that."

"I kinda thought so." She gave me a little smile.

"Now, I'm not sure what . . ." I wasn't even sure what I was trying to say.

But Annie smiled. "Just take it easy. Katniss might feel guilty about being happy for a while."

"Do you?" I asked. Now I was prying. But I was curious.

She squished her face up funny. I almost laughed, but held it in since the subject was serious. "Not really," she said, finally. "I did for a while. Once Finnie was born I felt much more freedom. Like I knew Finnick would want me to be happy for the baby so it was okay."

I had wolfed down the eggs. I at least remembered to wipe off my mouth before I said "That was great. So, do you have a list of things that need fixing around here?"

"Seriously? You're on vacation. You don't have to do that." she said.

"I can't stand just doing nothing. I've got extra time this morning. I told you I would help you take care of Katniss, but you haven't let me do anything. There must be something I can do."

"If you really want to . . . I do have a list for my brothers, but they don't get much time to work on it. But you don't have to do that."

* * *

I decided to tackle the clogged sink drain upstairs first. I had to go back over to the tool shed at the boys' house to get some tools. It was amazing. They didn't even keep it locked. It had stuff I had never even seen before. Maybe they were special boat tools. Back home I had made do with a hammer, a screwdriver, a wrench, and my knife. Anything else I had to borrow. When would I stop feeling jealous whenever anyone had any decent stuff? I grabbed some basic tools and went back over to Annie's.

The pipes were old with tight connections. When I finally got the bolt loose, some kind of foul black gunk started leaking out all over me. I crawled out from under the sink to reach for my bucket and looked right up at Katniss, standing there in her robe, looking quizzically at me. She looked strangely warm, almost out of breath. Her cheeks were flushed. She was beautiful. I would not let myself wonder what she had on under her robe. Knowing Katniss it was probably an old t-shirt.

"Did you . . . What are you . . .What's going on here?" she asked.

"Good morning," I said.

"Oh, good morning. Now, what are you doing? You're a mess."

I was. The black stuff had gotten all over my face. I grabbed an old cloth I had brought over from the shed and tried to wipe my face off. "I am fixing Annie's drain," I said.

"Why?" asked Katniss.

"Because you can't use the sink when the drain is clogged," I said.

"So now you are a plumber who makes cross district house calls?" She sat down on the side of the bath tub. I got the bucket.

"Did you get any sleep?" I asked, as I tried to empty all the garbage out of the U-joint into the bucket.

"Yeah, I was exhausted," she said. "So what are your plans for today? Any other sinks you need to fix?"

"I got Annie to give me a list of things she needed done around the house. Stuff I could do so I wasn't just sitting around, wasting time. What did you have in mind?"

"I was thinking maybe we could go hunting. But I can help you with some of the jobs first before we go," she said.

I couldn't believe how different things felt today. It was so easy to talk to Katniss. Almost like the last couple of years never happened. Almost.

"Great. Hey, can you rinse this out in the tub?" I handed her the empty U-joint. She turned on the faucet, rinsed it, and then handed it back to me. Her hand touched mine as she did. I wondered if she had even noticed that.

"Okay, but I need to get dressed and have breakfast. I'll wait to brush my teeth until you are done in here."

"I'll be done in a couple of minutes," I said. By the time I had the drain reassembled she was dressed and back. I wiped my hands on the old cloth. I put all of the tools into the bucket and held my hand out to Katniss.

"Give me a hand up," I said.

"Sure," she said. She grunted as she yanked on my hand. But when I stood up, she didn't let go. It was a small bathroom and I was suddenly very aware of how close together we were standing. She looked up into my face and I looked at her lips. I had a mad desire to kiss her, and for a moment neither of us said anything. Then she laughed and said "You should look in the mirror. You are a mess."

I turned to look in the mirror, but didn't let go of her hand. My earlier attempts to wipe off my face had basically just smeared the grime around. I gave a nervous laugh and said "I'll let you have the bathroom now. I'll go downstairs and clean up." If I stayed in this bathroom with her much longer I could end up getting slapped.

As I washed my hands and face down in the kitchen I forced myself to remember what Annie had said. I needed to take it easy. Standing so close to Katniss, I had wanted to kiss her, and the way she looked at me . . . . What was she thinking? What was Katniss thinking?

**Thanks again to IrishLuck19 – you're the best!**

**A little help here, my next project – not a fanfic – is going to be in the horror genre. What is the scariest thing you have ever read? So far Edgar Allen Poe is leading my list, maybe Stephen King next, although "Carrie" didn't do it for me. Send me your recommendations.**

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	15. Sunblock

**Don't own Hunger Games, Catching Fire, Mockingjay or any of their accessories.**

**BTW – Gale's excellent curse words (if I do say so myself) are courtesy of Medea Smyke. I point this out both to give credit where credit is due (she did give me permission to use them too), but also to make sure that you take a look at her "And So We Run" I & II and the on-going "An Extra Dividend."**

**Sunblock**

I hadn't known how hard it was to hate Gale until I forgave him. I had been forcing an enormous load up a steep slope; now I'd just let it go. Effortlessly, we slid back into being friends. It was too easy. I had to be careful before I did something stupid.

What now? I hadn't thought I could forgive him, so I hadn't considered what would happen next. Part of me wanted to go back to being 14 again. We could go hunting, relax in the woods, throw berries at each other, act like none of the rest of it had ever happened.

But part of me was very aware that we weren't kids anymore.

I was asleep as soon as I slipped under the sheets in my room. Then I had a dream, a vivid dream, that involved kissing and skin. Gale and I were . . . together. I woke with a start and my hand flew to my mouth to quiet it. Had I called out his name? I didn't think so, but my heart was throbbing. How could I have a dream like that? I loved Peeta. I was a widow. I was in mourning. My own brain was conspiring against me.

I pulled on my robe and hurried into the bathroom, then jerked back in surprise. Gale was there, lying on the floor. Was I still asleep? I bit my lip and it hurt, so I must be awake. What was he doing? Had he heard me? He seemed to be doing something under the sink.

I stood there, stupidly, wondering what to do. I couldn't use the bathroom with him here. Should I say something, let him know I was here? He was wearing some jeans and an old t-shirt. His shirt was pulled up and I could see his taut stomach. I wondered if he was running a lot now. Great, I sounded like a stalker now. I was retying my bathrobe and trying to figure out what to do when he came out from under the sink.

It was so typical that he had asked Annie for a list of chores. Gale has never been able to do nothing. Even when we were just hanging around in the woods he always had to have something to do with his hands, tying a piece of grass into pointless knots, using a stick to dig holes in the dirt, always something. So I shouldn't have been surprised to find him tinkering under the sink.

The bathroom, however, was just too small for him. I'd never thought it was small before. I didn't notice until I pulled him to standing. The problem with Gale was that there was just so much of him. He'd always been tall and now, whatever they were doing in the army, his shoulders were broader than ever. He took up the entire bathroom. I looked up at him and for a moment . . . . Maybe we should spend more time outdoors where he didn't overwhelm me quite as much.

What I wanted was just to be friends, for now. It was too soon; I wasn't ready for anything else. Maybe I should get him to leave so we can be pen pals. That would be safer.

But he couldn't leave. He didn't get a lot of vacation. How long would it be before I could see him again?

Once I got him out of the bathroom I decided that I really needed a shower. I took my time because I wasn't sure how I was going to handle this day.

When I got into the kitchen Gale was on the back porch messing with the screen door. "Hey," he called in. "I made you breakfast. Annie took Finnie for a walk by the shore. Her mom is out gardening."

On the table was a plate laden with eggs and toast. How much did he think I needed to eat? "Thanks," I said, and poured myself some coffee. Annie's coffee was so much better than the stuff we had had in District 13 that I barely needed to add any sugar at all. I took a sip. I needed to be alert today.

"Did you get any sleep at all?" I asked him.

"No, I wasn't tired," he said, as he reached up to tighten the upper hinge. I looked away from his strong shoulders. I started eating my eggs. They were a touch overdone, but good. Before I knew it I'd eaten almost the whole plateful. I nibbled on a piece of toast as I watched Gale swinging the door back and forth, testing his work. Then he came in, got a drink of water and sat down.

"What's next on the list?" I asked.

"The next job's a big one, but it seems important so let's give it a shot," he said. "The door to the root cellar is rotted out. Annie thinks it could be dangerous to Finnie. It might not hold his weight if he crawled on it."

"So we need to build a whole new door? Do we have the stuff for that?" I asked.

"Annie said she'd show me where there's some scrap wood. Are you done? We can go ask her."

"Let me wash up the dishes, first," I said.

"Okay, you wash. I'll dry," he said.

As he stood next to me by the sink, once again I got the feeling that he was taking up the whole room. Yesterday I'd thought he seemed somehow smaller. Today I had no idea how I could have thought that. I couldn't stop being aware of where he was all of the time. And how close he was to touching me. Every time my elbow bumped into him I noticed it. Was I always like this with people? What was wrong with me? I needed to make some small talk.

"I have to bring my hat and sunblock if we are going to be outside," I said.

"Why? No more tanning for you?" Sunbathing was never a big deal in District 12, although my face and arms would get darker in the summer when we were outside a lot.

"No, it's my burned skin. I'm not supposed to let the scar tissue get sunburnt. I guess it's been burnt enough for a lifetime," I said, trying not to feel the flames licking my skin, not to think of the last time I saw Prim.

Gale's voice brought me back to reality. "So that's why the long sleeves?" he asked.

"What? Yeah, plus I tend to be colder now," I said.

"Even in August?"

"It's better now. Finish up. I'll run get my stuff and we can go find Annie."

Annie and Finnie were down by the shore. Gale splashed around with Finnie a bit while Annie explained to us where to find the wood. She told us she'd have lunch ready for us when we got hungry.

After we got the wood, we settled down to work. "So why don't you tell me about your last year. It sounds like it was pretty rough," Gale said.

"You really want to hear about all of that?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said, as he measured the door we were replacing. He handed me one end of the tape measure and I held it in place for him. I didn't know what to say, where to begin. I looked up and saw Gale looking intently at me. "I want to know what's been going on in your life." I let go of the tape measure and he rolled it up. As he stared at it he said "My mom told me that Peeta was sick, but I didn't know it was anything serious."

So I poured out my horrible year to him. I obviously left out the more intimate moments between me and Peeta. I did skip some of the details, like how I hated seeing him on the covers of magazines, but other than that I told him everything.

While I was talking, we worked on the root cellar door. Actually, Gale did most of the work. I kept track of the old hinges, held boards in place for him, did what I could, but I didn't know much about door-making. At some point I had to go into the house to get some tissue because I was tearing up. I wondered if it bothered Gale to watch me crying over Peeta, but if it did he didn't let on. Overall, it felt good to just tell someone the whole story. Gale has always been a good listener. I liked to watch his hands while he worked.

We were almost done. Unbelievably, it had only taken a couple of hours. I was making my last trip, carrying the pieces of the old door back over to the wood pile.

"Hell's teeth!" Gale yelled. I ran back to see what had happened. He was cradling his left hand, which was bleeding. He had been cutting the last piece of wood for a crossbeam. The saw must have hit a knot or something. It had bounced out of the groove and bit into his thumb.

The cut wasn't too deep, but it was almost three inches long. Even though I'd never be a healer, this I could handle. I ran into the house and got a wet washcloth, some antiseptic and cotton balls, a big bandage, and a glass of ice water just because it was getting warm. When I got back I made Gale sit down and drink the water while I played nurse.

"Ow!" he exclaimed as I cleaned the cut with the antiseptic.

"At least you didn't curse this time."

"I'm trying to behave," he said with a smile. He must not have been hurting that much.

"Okay, now hold your fingers out while I put on the bandage." I couldn't help but notice how warm his hands were. Everything about Gale was warm. "There now, all done."

"What about a kiss to make it better?" he said.

"Okay," I said. I had given Gale tons of casual kisses before, when he was hurt, when he gave me gifts, and he had done the same to me. Of course, we had shared some less casual kisses, but that was a long time ago. So why did I have to turn red now? Maybe it was because he was giving me an intense look and his eyes had gotten very dark. I put his hand to my lips and kissed over the bandage. I could feel his warmth even through it. I put his hand down quickly and tried not to act flustered. He looked at me for a moment more and then said "Thanks."

I couldn't understand why I kept blushing. I decided I needed to keep a bit more space between us, although that was kind of hard to do when I was holding the door in place while he attached the hinges. As soon as it was stable I ran into the house. I needed some water. As I stood by the sink I had the bizarre sensation that Peeta was somehow watching me, smiling, laughing at me. The jerk.

Gale and I shared a lunch of turkey sandwiches and salad with Annie, Finnie and Susan. After we were done he said "Enough work. Let's go swimming."

"Annie," I said, "Do you have a swimsuit I can borrow?"

"Do you mean you haven't been swimming yet?" Gale looked shocked.

"No," said Annie. "Finnie and I go, but we haven't been able to get Katniss in the water yet."

"I'll go," I said. "Annie, Susan, why don't you and Finnie come, too?" That should keep things platonic.

"Sure," said Gale. "Let's teach Finnie to swim."

"Oh, he already knows how," said Annie. "He's a little fish."

"You're kidding. I was joking." Gale looked surprised. I had heard Annie crowing about Finnie's swimming before but hadn't really thought about it.

Susan explained. "Here in District 4 we think its bad luck if a baby can't swim before he walks. It makes sense. If we are going to live next to the ocean, do we want the water to be his friend or his enemy?"

Sure enough, a half hour later Finnie was paddling around in the water. Annie and Susan were both always nearby, but he seemed to love it. I was glad I had invited them, both because it was so funny to watch Finnie and because I had Annie to put sunblock on my back. She was very thorough. She even reminded me to put some on the scar on my cheek, the one from when Gale was whipped. It had faded a bit, but it was still there. I was a little self-conscious about my scarred skin, but Annie didn't mind and Gale had as many scars as I did so it didn't take me long to stop thinking about it.

It had been a long time since I'd been swimming. In fact, with a shudder I realized I hadn't been since I was in the Arena. I didn't think that was a good subject to bring up around Annie so I didn't say anything about it.

Gale was in a very good mood. He asked Annie all about teaching a baby that small to swim. He sounded like he was ready to move to District 4. Then we swam out to a sand bar. We waved to Annie and Finnie.

"I could get used to living here," said Gale, as he dug into the warm sand with one hand.

"Oh, so are you going to get a place here after you leave the army? Maybe build a little house down the road."

He ignored my teasing. "No, I think I want to go back to District 12. My family is there. I don't think any place else could feel like home." His eyes were dark again. I locked eyes with him, then had to turn away.

For the first time in my life, I wished I didn't know Gale so well. Because I knew that he missed District 12 and I was part of the reason he hadn't been back. His eyes let me know that what he meant was that he wanted was to go back to District 12 to live forever – with me. Worse than that, he knew me well enough that he knew what I had seen in his eyes.

I stared at my toes, pale and distorted in the shallow water. One look at Gale had changed everything. Suddenly I could see a new future blooming before me. My heart raced ahead of me, hopeful for the first time in almost a year. And it scared me.

So I said "Race you back to the beach," and dove into the water. He beat me even though I had a head start. Annie had brought some towels so we laid them out on the beach and sat on them. Gale lay on his stomach and dug holes in the sand with Finnie. Annie's eyes widened when she saw his scarred back, but I gave a shake of my head to keep her from bringing it up. It was too nice of a day for such bad memories.

"We were going to go hunting later," I said to Annie. "What should we get for dinner?"

"Mom, what do we have from the garden?" Annie asked.

"There are ripe tomatoes, and some carrots and peas," she answered.

"Sounds like that would go well with rabbit," said Annie.

"Think we can come up with some bunnies for Annie?" I asked Gale, but he didn't answer. I turned to look at him and laughed. He was asleep, even with Finnie playing right by his head.

Annie said "I should take Finnie up for his nap, too." She and Susan gathered their stuff and went inside. I decided to stay with Gale for a while. Maybe I could figure out what to do with him.

He looked so peaceful sleeping there. Handsome, too. I had been so used to him when we were kids that it took me a while to be able to see him as others did. His face was basically perfect. Even completely relaxed he had a strong jaw, sculpted cheekbones, now covered with a couple days' worth of stubble. No wonder he had found no shortage of girls to kiss in District 2. I should ask him about Johanna, I thought, but then, maybe not. Not if I wanted to avoid the subject of romance. I wondered if he might still be seeing her. Surely he would have mentioned something like that by now. But I'd spent the morning talking about my life. I hadn't asked him much about his life at all. What if he was seeing her? That would be fine with me, wouldn't it? I didn't think Johanna seemed like his type. I doubted she was interested in learning how to tie a snare. At least not one for rabbits.

Suddenly I was very curious. I wondered who his friends were now, what he did when he wasn't doing army stuff, what he did when he _was_ doing army stuff. I was going to have to get him to talk about himself a bit more. In some ways he seemed just like the Gale who had been my best friend so many years ago. But there was also something different about him now. I couldn't quite put my finger on it. He was somehow deeper. He joked around less than he used to. There was something about him that seemed . . . haunted.

He was probably going to sleep for a long time since he'd been up all night. I started to gather my stuff to go back to the house, then stopped to look at the sunblock. I had been glad that Gale didn't ask me to put sunblock on him earlier. But now, he would be completely burned if he just slept here in the sun all afternoon. We'd already been out here for more than an hour. I looked at him sleeping there. His back was all scars and it shouldn't get burnt. What kind of a friend would I be if I let that happen? I decided I would try not to wake him, but I had to put some lotion on him.

I took a deep breath and poured a bunch of sunblock into my hand. His eyes fluttered when he felt the cool lotion, but I whispered to him "Don't wake up. I'm just sun blocking you so you don't get burnt." His eyes closed again.

The deep scars on his back made me shudder. I wondered which mark was the first, which was the one that had made him pass out. They were no longer screaming red. Now they were pale, smooth, shaped like flames burning down his skin. I ran a lotion-covered finger down each one, trying not to count them. On his left side there was one that was more messed up than the others. I frowned until I remembered - this was a scar on top of a scar, where he had been hurt during Peeta's rescue. I filled in the blank spaces between the scars; there were just a few. Over the smell of the sunblock I could still make out the scent of the ocean mingled with sweat.

Then I covered each shoulder and arm. His right arm had more scars, from the burning of District 12. His skin was surprisingly sleek over his hard muscles. I wondered again what he had been doing in the army. Was it harder work than the mines? Or else maybe having enough to eat had helped. Gale used to be more slender, while Peeta was the stockier one. I shouldn't compare the two of them. It seemed wrong somehow.

I carefully coated his neck and the one ear showing. I hoped he wouldn't roll over since I couldn't get block onto his other side. My hand lingered on his face before I used a finger to smooth lotion into all the indentations. His cheek was scarred, too, also from District 12. I took a deep breath. I dipped my finger in the sunblock and touched his lips as lightly as I could. I could feel his warm breath on my skin. I tried to swallow and realized that my mouth had gone dry. Almost done. I needed to keep control of myself.

Now came another tricky part, his sides. I didn't want to wake him up. I tried to use enough pressure to keep it from tickling. I realized that I missed a strip of skin below his scars. I ran my finger just under the edge of his shorts. If he were to wake up now what would he think I was up to? I knew no sunblock could prevent the red in my face.

Finally, I covered his legs. Luckily his shorts were pretty long. The back of his leg, just above his knee had some more scars. I didn't even know what those were from. What kind of a friend was I? I'd never noticed his calves before. He must have been running a lot. His right calf had some small marks, again I didn't know what they were from. His left calf had an indentation, like something was usually strapped there. Did he still keep a knife strapped to his leg all of the time? His skin was warm. As I reached down to his ankle he let out a faint moan and I froze. I noticed that my heart was pounding. I needed to get into the house. What if he were to wake up and pull me toward him? I decided not to follow that thought. He seemed to still be asleep. I wondered what he was dreaming, then turned from that thought also.

As I got up and wiped my hands on my pants, I realized that they were shaking. I grabbed my stuff and hurried up to the house.

I spent the afternoon pacing around, getting in the way. I helped Susan pick ripe vegetables in her garden. I folded some laundry with Annie. I wondered how long Gale could sleep out there. I was considering going out to wake him, when he stumbled into the kitchen.

"How many days have I been out?" he asked, rubbing his face with one hand. "What time is it?"

"It's time to go hunting. Pull yourself together. Annie is counting on us to bring back something good for dinner. Do you want some coffee?" I offered.

"No," he said. "This'll work." He turned on the faucet and stuck his entire head under the cold running water. Then he jumped back and shook his head, sprinkling me and the entire kitchen with water.

"Hey!" I shouted. "Do that outside!"

"Let's go," he said as he grinned and threw me a towel.

I grabbed my bow and quiver from next to the back door. "What about you? Did you bring a bow?"

"No, I'll have to stick to my knife and some snares. Is there any twine around here?"

I found him some and we headed into the forest.

It felt great to hunt with Gale again. The years slipped away as we moved silently through the trees. I flushed when he asked me where my snares were. I had taken them all down when I was mad at him. I didn't tell him that. We went to a clearing I'd found. He stayed at the edge, setting traps near some bushes while I crept into the grass. Sure enough, there were a couple of rabbits happily grazing. I took them down, then held them up for Gale to see.

At first he gave me a strange and thoughtful look. It was part of the difference in him now. Sometimes I had no idea what was going through his head. Then he called out "Dinner?" and was back to normal.

We found a bush brimming with blackberries and filled my bag, while nibbling on some as we picked. It was already getting close to dinnertime so we headed back to Annie's. As we walked back I thought how nice it was to be with someone who could hunt. Then I winced. How could I be such a traitor to Peeta's memory? I had nothing to say to Gale the rest of the way back to the house.

Annie was thrilled with our catch. Gale got the rabbits ready for cooking while I chopped up some carrots and onions. I felt dizzy. Peeta was back in my head, but I didn't know what I was thinking. I hacked viciously at the innocent onion, nervous energy surging through my hands. My eyes stung with tears.

Gale looked over and asked "You okay?"

"Onions," I muttered, although I couldn't help but think "_No, of course I'm not okay."_

My calm, quiet, boring life was suddenly tumbling out of my control. I needed someone to talk to about all of this. Not Gale. I couldn't get advice from him about him. I wished Peeta was here. That was ridiculous. If Peeta was here, Gale wouldn't be here. But Peeta always had a way of calming me down, talking me through things until I knew what to do next. Then I thought of Prim. She'd never tried to tell me what to do, but I longed to be able to talk to her - have her put her arms around me and tell me it would be okay.

Annie decided that we should have a picnic. There was a flat, somewhat grassy area behind the house. Ocean breezes were cooling the warm air. We put out a tablecloth and brought out another feast. Two rabbits were too much for our small group, but Annie seemed to be showing off a bit lately. She'd also baked bread today. As I tore into the soft white loaf I thought of Peeta again. Would bread always remind me of him? Probably. Was he watching me from somewhere? What did he think? He'd tell me to live my life, be happy. Why did that thought annoy me so?

"So who built this house?" Gale asked. I was sitting on the far side of the tablecloth from him. He was done eating and was fiddling with some grass or something.

"My father and his brothers built it and the boys' house," said Susan. "Sixty-five years ago. They'd built ships and they decided to turn their skills to the land."

"You grew up here, then?" he asked. Now he had his back almost turned to us and was doing something I couldn't see with his hands.

"Yes, I learned to swim in the same water as Finnie. So did Annie. Although I don't think either of us took to it as quickly as he did. This little bay has seen a lot of children." Annie and Susan began recounting hoards of aunts, uncles, cousins, all of whom had swum in these waters.

"We need the boys to get married, so Finnie can have some cousins," said Annie. "When I was a girl, my cousins and I played king of the mountain on the big rock down on the beach."

Talk of marriage and children made my shoulders clench. Why was everyone always so anxious for everyone else to get married? How could Annie want to marry her brothers off just so Finnie could have playmates? Mostly I was afraid that Gale would chime in, say something about how wonderful it was to have swarms of children.

But he didn't. Instead he got up, came around behind me and put something on my head.

"I'll be the king of the mountain. You can be the queen," he said as he crowned me. I reached up and felt with my hand – he had made me a dandelion crown. My chest gripped in. Gale and Peeta were now working together, pressuring me. I couldn't breathe.

I jumped up and ran into the house, throwing the flowers onto the stairs as I fled.

* * *

**Thanks again for all your great beta work, IrishLuck19. Someday I will get all my tenses right.**

**Thanks to all my wonderful reviewers – happiness is an inbox full of reviews (and yes, even if some of them are con crit).**

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**TeamGale – update once a week. Did a bit more during Spring Break, maybe we can pull off a faster pace once we get to summer, but for now that will be it.**

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	16. Good Hunting

**I don't own the Hunger Games series or any of its characters, but if I did I think that they would have more fun.**

**Good Hunting**

Maybe Katniss was deliberately trying to drive me insane. She didn't know how close to that edge I had already been.

Of course, she wasn't. She was fighting her own battle and I was just an incidental casualty.

After she ran into the house, we all sat there for a moment trying to absorb what had just happened. I sat back down on the grass and held my head. I had thought we were getting along so well. Then she sucker punched me.

Annie broke the silence: "Katniss has some kind of a weird thing with dandelions." Something in my brain flickered at that, but I couldn't pull it out of my swirling thoughts.

"Let's take in the dinner things and then I will go talk to her," Annie volunteered. "Mom, can you keep an eye on Finnie?" I was grateful for Annie. I had no idea how to deal with Katniss.

After we cleared up, Annie went upstairs and I decided to go for a swim. The water was cool, cleansing, and, best of all, predictable. Not like Katniss. It might come from the fact that she constantly lied to herself. She was honest about most things, but whenever something bothered her she pushed it away and wouldn't deal with it. Then it would burst out when it was least expected.

She also was incredibly bad at reading other people. Maybe they were connected. She wouldn't figure herself out so she couldn't understand others either. Like me. Only Katniss could have made herself believe that I could be asleep while she covered me with sunblock. That had to be the most amazing, tormenting and strange experience I'd ever had.

Of course, it felt good, unbelievably good. At first I had been so deeply asleep that I barely registered when she said something to me. Then I felt her soft hands on my skin. It took me a moment to know that it wasn't a dream. It was much too real, too physical. By the time I was awake enough to think there was no way I could have stopped her without scaring her. And, to be honest, I had no interest in stopping her. But I kept wondering if she really thought I was asleep. Couldn't she hear my heart hammering? It must have been shaking the whole beach. It was dishonest to pretend like that, but when I thought about what she would do if she realized I was awake I decided it was better to fake it. When I couldn't take it anymore, I accidentally made some sort of a sound. I felt her freeze. I could picture her sitting there, wide-eyed, a frightened rabbit. I hated knowing that she was afraid of me.

After she left I covered my head with my hands. I was shaking all over, including my brain. Then exhaustion took me. At least I had an amazing dream.

I reached the sand bar and took a break. The real problem was time. If I lived down the road and could come by and visit every day then I could wait patiently for her to put herself back together and be ready for something new. And I could make sure that no one else would step into that opening. But I was leaving in just a few days. I had thought time was on my side once before and I wouldn't make that mistake again.

Hunting together again had been fantastic. As soon as we were in the forest I could see her go into hunter mode: her arms tensed, her eyes and ears alert, but her face relaxed. In the woods the silence between us was natural, comfortable. I rigged up some snares and thought that I knew a lot about how to catch and kill a rabbit, but not much about how to comfort one when she is scared, let alone how to convince her to want to be with me for the rest of her life. Just then Katniss had held up her kill, two bunnies. The contrasting images threw me: sometimes she is as jittery as threatened prey; sometimes she is a ruthless killer. No wonder I couldn't figure her out.

I headed back to shore. I hadn't brought a towel, so I sat on the rock while I dried off. I watched as the sky darkened and the moon rose, its reflection bouncing off the bay's gentle waves.

I needed to be patient, to think about how hard this must be for Katniss. She might be doing just what Annie had said - feeling guilty because she had some fun. On the other hand, she might be sliding back into hating me again.

I went back to the house. Annie and her mother were washing and drying the dishes. I tried to help put away a few things, but there wasn't much left to clean up.

"Katniss fell asleep," said Annie.

"Is she okay?" I asked, not even sure what I meant by that.

"She will be. She's just confused. Not sure what she's feeling, or what she should be feeling. Us widows are kind of psycho like that for a while." I was glad she was smiling when she said that.

"I'm going back over to the boys' house," I told them.

Back at the other house I knocked lightly on the door, then heard voices in the kitchen. When I walked in Davy called out "Here's just who you need for some woman advice, the famous lover: Gale Hawthorne."

"Sorry, that Hawthorne is a media invention. I'm completely clueless."

Davy laughed. There were a bunch of beer bottles on the table and he seemed a bit tipsy.

But Jonah asked "Really? So they just made up all that stuff about you and all those women?"

"Yeah, I don't know what you've read since I quit reading tabloids. But while my alter ego has been womanizing, I've been buried 5 stories down cleaning up the Nut with not a female in sight."

"And what about Katniss? Are you really her cousin?" Jonah kept it up.

"No. They made that up while she was in her first Games." Just thinking about that made me tired.

"Want to join us for a beer?" asked Davy.

"Sorry, it's been a long day. I'm turning in."

"Hey, we're going to go to the market on Wednesday. Get us something good for trading when you're in the woods tomorrow," said Jonah.

"Sure," I said heading for the stairs.

"If she's not your cousin, you can get something _really_ good in the woods," said Davy with a leer.

My fists clenched. I forced myself to take a deep breath and just said "Good night." I hated jerks who talked like that, especially about Katniss. But I had enough problems without stirring something up with Annie's brothers.

I went for another run in the morning. This time the sun was already coming up. The shore was gorgeous in the soft early light. I went back to the boys' house and cleaned up. Once again they were already gone clamming when I got back. After I was dressed I headed over to Annie's, hoping they would be up already.

Katniss was coming toward me on the road, wearing a hooded cloak. Who else would be bundled up like that on an August morning?

As she approached I admired her walk. It was not affected, with a lot of hip swinging like some girls. Even under her cloak I could see her smooth grace, that was somehow very feminine without trying to be. She wasn't as bone thin as she had sometimes been, but she was still slender. I had noticed yesterday that her waist was so small that I could almost circle it with my hands. Better not to think of that.

"Hey, Catnip," I greeted her. It had been a long time since I had called her that.

She let out a gentle laugh, hearing her nickname. "'Morning, Gale. Already done your run?"

"Yeah, the shore is amazing."

"Sorry about last night," she said, turning to walk back to Annie's with me.

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize you weren't up to the pressures of a crown."

"No, I was just . . . confused."

That really cleared things up. "Did Annie let you have it again?"

"No, she was nice. It helps to have someone who's been through all of this, too."

I guessed she meant being a widow. She couldn't mean having some oaf put flowers on her head. I took a deep breath. I needed to forget about last night.

"So what's the plan for today?"

"I don't know. Maybe chores, swimming and hunting?"

"Sounds good." We could finish off Annie's list today. The back stairs needed some work. Finnie's closet door was broken and Susan wanted a fence around her garden.

After breakfast we got to work on the back stairs. Annie was hanging laundry on the line, with Finnie crawling around by her, babbling happily. Her mom was nearby, in the garden as usual. I figured a bit of chaperoning might make Katniss more comfortable.

"So now it's your turn," she said. "Tell me about your last year."

Wow. I should've seen that coming. I wasn't sure I was ready. I didn't want to get into my time in the Capitol and all of that, especially with Annie and her mom around, so I just started with my work on the Grave Digging Unit. Even that seemed to shock Katniss. Then I told her all about my squad, Captain Brighton, the Commission, the Nut. I didn't bring up Johanna.

The back porch just needed one new board cut and painted for one of the steps, and a few new nails. Then we went inside to work on Finnie's door.

Finnie's folding closet doors had come out of their rails. I poked around the closet to find the missing parts which Annie had said were in there somewhere.

Katniss sat cross-legged on the floor and asked "Now do you want to fill me in on how you got out of the Capitol?"

She had caught me. "Oh, you noticed I skipped that part?" I asked, trying to sound innocent. So I told her about it. It helped that I didn't have to look at her; I could keep my eyes focused on fixing the closet. I didn't sugarcoat it much, although there were parts I still didn't remember. I left out the noose. I didn't want her to have to worry about me, and I had decided I could never do that anyway.

I finished the story and the doors at about the same time. I turned around and Katniss was right there. For once I didn't hear her coming. She put her arms around me and buried her head in my chest.

"I'm so sorry you had to go through all of that," she murmured. She had caught me off guard. I didn't know what to say, so I just held on to her. This morning I'd decided I would back off, but if she was going to hug me, what could I do? I stroked her braid and wondered why I needed this so much. "Why didn't you tell me? When you came to the Capitol I asked why you hadn't come to see me and you didn't say anything."

"It wouldn't have mattered. I had killed Prim. I knew Peeta was better for you than I was. I didn't deserve you anymore." I couldn't believe how much I ached just thinking back to that day.

She looked up at me. "I can't believe I hated you."

I just held her. We couldn't change what had happened. I wondered if we were too damaged to ever get it right. I tucked a stray lock of hair back behind her ear and lost myself in her eyes. They still were dark gray that slipped into silver near the center. Her upper lip still had a soft little dent in the center. I remembered Annie's advice and held myself back from kissing her.

Or maybe I just chickened out.

We went outside and found Mrs. Cresta under her wide brimmed straw hat in the garden. She looked up from her weeding and greeted us with a smile.

"So, Mrs. Cresta, what kind of fence were you thinking about?" I asked.

"I think the boys already bought some chicken wire. They just haven't had time to put it around the garden yet," she answered.

I thought I had seen the chicken wire in the shed so Katniss and I took a walk back over to the boys' house. I shoved my hands into my pockets to avoid temptation.

As we walked I asked her "Are you done quizzing me about my life?"

She glanced sideways. "Sure, I guess I can just let the tabloids fill in the gaps."

I groaned. "Not you, too. I thought if anyone would know not to believe all of that trash it'd be you."

"So, none of it was true?" she asked.

"I actually don't know what all they said. After I was attacked by some redhead who was probably paid to get a picture with me, I banned tabloids from the barracks. Have there been a lot of stories?"

"I don't know. I mostly tried to avoid them. But the picture of you and Johanna didn't look like you were being attacked." Did Katniss sound jealous? What a hypocrite.

"I did go out with Johanna, but nothing much happened. What was the picture like?"

"Just the two of you walking arm in arm. But, come on, I know Johanna. And I know that she's had her eye on you for a while. Don't tell me nothing happened." Katniss actually sounded kind of mad. I was trying very hard not to enjoy this. But I filled her in on all the details: the kiss, the "Let's just be friends," the working through my whole squad, the comment about Rory.

When I was done, Katniss let out a whistle. "Wow, I guess making her mad was a mistake."

"No kidding," I said. Katniss looked smug. Maybe I should have let her think I did have something with Johanna.

The fence was easy to put up. It was short enough to step over, so it didn't need a gate, although we set it up so it could be opened to get a wheelbarrow through. We made sure to leave the tools where Finnie couldn't reach them, then grabbed a quick lunch of leftovers with Annie and Susan.

"Do you mind if we go hunting before we take a swim?" asked Katniss as we finished up. "I have this long list of herbs I am supposed to find for Mrs. Spicer at the apothecary and I want to make sure that we have time."

"We can go now. Let me just get a drink of water first."

As we walked to the woods Katniss asked "Do you still have the good luck rock that Posy gave you?"

"It's in my room. I sleep with it in my hand whenever I have to stay overnight down in the Nut." Funny how I wouldn't tell anyone else things like that, except Posy of course. But with Katniss it came out before I even thought about it.

It was another warm day, but the temperature dropped several degrees as soon as we stepped into the forest. Katniss had given me her bow and quiver since she had to look for a bunch of herbs. I made her take my knife. It would help with the plants; and I didn't want her in the woods without a weapon. Her bow was a little smaller than mine and it had been a long time since I'd shot an arrow. I made her promise not to laugh if I missed my first few shots.

But after practicing a bit I did okay. These woods were different from District 12's woods, just as District 2 had its own feel. Here the trees were thicker, the ground was rockier and the air smelled of ocean salt. There were animals everywhere. I figured squirrels were not the best thing for trading so I focused on rabbits. With two from my snares and two more I shot, I had four before long. Then I got a good-sized turkey and went over to see how Katniss was doing.

She had already found some chamomile, St. John's wort, and calendula. Now she was looking for alyssum.

"What's it look like?"

"It's got gold flowers. They should be blooming now and easy to spot." We moved deeper into the forest, looking sharp for gold.

Then I saw eyes looking back at me. "Katniss, don't move," I breathed. I silently handed her the bow and quiver and she knew to give me my knife. She followed my gaze and saw a large wild boar glaring back at us. I let the game I was carrying slip down to the ground and gestured to her that I'd move away. I'd be the diversion so she could get some good shots in. She gave an almost imperceptible nod.

I moved sideways away from Katniss. I'd never seen a boar before, although Doc had talked about hunting them in District 10. This one was very big and dark, almost black. It had two sharp tusks which were curved and freakishly long, at least 6 inches. Maybe it was some kind of mutt. Great. Boars were supposed to be aggressive, especially where they were not used to being hunted. It was going to charge. I wished I had something more than a knife with me. Since it was my only weapon I couldn't throw it. I needed to keep it for some hand to hoof combat. I kept my eyes down, so it wouldn't feel challenged, glancing up every few steps to make sure it was still marking me.

Then it charged. I wasn't as far from Katniss as I wanted to be, but it didn't matter. It put its head down and came fast, hurtling right at me. How could an animal that thick move so quickly? Katniss's first shot bounced harmlessly off of the thick hide on its back. I needed to slow it down and keep from being gored. If I could get onto its back I had a chance. How much harder could this be than wrestling Rory, sparring with Shine?

Just before it reached me Katniss hit it with an arrow that stuck. The beast clenched and I used that moment to vault onto its back, clinging with one hand to its hairy hide. Then it started to convulse, trying to shake me off. Its erratic moves were going to make it hard for Katniss to get another good shot without me in front of her arrows. I tried to stay on the far side of the beast, leaving the other side open to her. But I wanted to do something useful with my knife when I had a chance.

I felt the boar grunt as another arrow caught it broadside. Quickly, I reached over and swiped my knife into the thick hide on its throat. I drew blood, but I wasn't sure how much damage I'd done. I gave it another jab and it returned with a wild thrash. I tried to hang on to its hide, but my hand was wet with sweat, and it began to slip. My other hand still clutched my knife. I tried to dig my knees into the beast, but just then it came to an abrupt halt and wrenched violently.

This time I couldn't hold on.

I opened my eyes. The forest was quiet. Then I heard a voice, calling my name. Katniss. She sounded panicked. I tried to answer and found that I couldn't make a sound. The air had been knocked out of me. I took a few gasping breaths and heard her crying out again. "Katniss," I said in reply, but my voice was so faint I was sure she couldn't hear me. I forced myself to slow down and take three deep breaths, to fill my aching lungs. As I did, I pushed off of the oak tree behind me and stood up.

"Gale! Gale! There you are! So much blood! Are you hurt?" Katniss was in my arms.

"Katniss," I had finally recovered my voice. "It's okay. I'm okay. Are you hurt?"

She pushed me back and looked at me in fury. "You scared me to death! Why didn't you answer me? Where did you go? You're covered in blood."

I put my hands on her arms, both to calm her and to keep her from pummeling me. "I'm sorry. I got the wind knocked out of me. I tried to answer, but I couldn't. Did you kill it?"

"Yes," she said as she laid her head back on my chest. "I saw you thrown off. I couldn't find you and I thought . . . ." She was shaking. My frightened rabbit again. I needed to comfort her.

I lifted her chin with my hand and pressed my lips to hers. I wanted to show her that I was alive. It was meant to be a gentle kiss, but she gripped the back of my head and pulled me into her with a strength I didn't expect. The huntress was back. I lifted her closer and melted into her. I could taste her fear, her hunger, and . . . blackberries. She must have found some that she hadn't shared. Well, not until now.

We slipped out of time and into an electric bliss. I left her lips and kissed her cheek, her scar, her eyes, then back to her lips. I slipped my hands around her waist, such a perfect fit. Somewhere a noise in the forest nudged the back of my brain, but I pushed it away. She made a sound in the back of her throat. I slid my hands behind her and picked her all the way up, leaning back against the tree as she pressed into me. Another noise from the forest and I knew I had to come up for air.

"We're not safe here," I rasped. "Mr. Ugly might have a mate."

She frowned at me as I set her down. "What? Who?"

"The boar. They travel in herds. We need to get our friend and get out of here."

"Oh," Katniss shook her head to clear it. "I forgot about him." Her eyes dropped as though she had just remembered everything that had happened and was suddenly embarrassed.

I took her hand and said "Come on. That's gotta be the biggest thing we've ever taken down."

"No kidding," she said, her eyes alight. This was a subject she was much more comfortable with.

"How many arrows did you hit it with?"

"Three that stuck. It kept coming after two, although I think it was already dying. You nearly cut its head off."

"Good thing you didn't kill this one when you were in here by yourself. You'd never have been able to carry it out alone," I said, gaping at the size of the boar.

"Are you serious? If I'd been alone it would have been carrying me out of here. No way I could have brought that down by myself."

I hugged Katniss to me and kissed the top of her head. I didn't want to think about what could have happened if she had run into this boar by herself.

She pulled away. "Come on. We have to get this out of here."

My knife was not too far from where the boar had thrown me and I picked up one of Katniss's arrows back up the trail. I found my string of rabbits and turkey and threw them over my back. Katniss had pulled her arrows out of the beast, wiped them quickly on the grass and stuck them in her quiver.

"Do you have all of your herbs?" I asked her. She nodded. "What about the blackberries?"

"How did you . . . ?" She blushed. "Oh, yeah, I've got them, too. I was gonna share, but you were busy."

"Don't worry," I said, grabbing the boar by his front legs. "You shared." I grinned at her as she rolled her eyes and took the boar's rear legs.

"We should get Annie to invite all her friends. We can have a feast," said Katniss.

"Maybe we can dig a pit and slow roast this beast. I wonder if Annie knows any good recipes for boar." The thing was heavy and cumbersome. It was hard to walk backwards while lifting its huge head over every obstacle. It had to be more than 200 pounds. We stopped chatting and focused on moving the beast.

"Let's take a breather," Katniss suggested after a bit.

"Sure," I said, and set it down.

"You gave me the heavy end."

"No way, I wouldn't do that." She looked at me skeptically, hands on her hips. I shook my head. "Okay, then, trade. Come see if this side is lighter."

"Fine," she said. She came around and grabbed its front legs. I picked up the back ones.

"Oh, my gosh," she said with a grunt as she lifted it up about 2 inches off of the ground. "Um . . . let's trade back."

"No way," I said. "You wanted the head. You've got it." She tried to lift it again and I had mercy on her. I came around and took the forelegs from her.

"Alright, I'll take this side back," I said. "But no more accusing me of not being chivalrous."

We slowly managed to move the boar out of the forest, then down to the beach. We set it down and both stepped to the water to wash up. I cleaned my knife, then my face, hands and arms, while Katniss washed off her arrows.

She shot me a scowl.

"What's wrong? Are you mad?" I asked.

"It's just that you jumped on that thing's back and you wanted me to shoot it. It was going everywhere and I was so afraid that I might hit you."

"That's why I let it throw me off. So you could get a clean shot," I said. Then I noticed that she was shaking again. I went over to her, took her hands and pulled her to standing.

"Your problem is that I trusted you more than you trusted yourself," I said.

"The problem is that you're insane," she retorted.

I thought about telling her that if I was insane it was her fault, but when I looked into her eyes I changed my mind, and decided to kiss her instead.

**Thanks again for the wonderful beta work – IrishLuck19. Check out her Batman fanfic – "Unmasked" – if you thought you had friend troubles!**

**Thanks for all of the wonderful reviews – always nice when someone new joins the party: **

**Hope Never Dies, RipredtheGnawer, JessicaClairee, Fionasaurus, MountainAir, Cattastrophies, Iluvdinos, bookADDICT6, EchoDeltaNine, Heart the Squid, GraceVictoria, Daydreaming Viking Girl, Obsessed-fic-fan2, Team Gale, HungerGamesGirl27, Katieg343, Analyn Lana Ruse, Spanish Angel, Solaryllis, Literarylesbian37, LawAndOrderSVUAlways (Thanks so much for the kind review. Btw – if you find a grammar mistake – anybody – let me know what it is! I hate the idea of uncorrected grammar flubs out there!)**


	17. Dangerous

**Disclaimer – I don't own the Hunger Games, Catching Fire or Mockingjay. Which is probably a good thing, because I don't think I could remain calm with the casting they are doing for the movie.**

**Dangerous**

My mind is a tricky place, a lovely field of flowers - with brutal landmines waiting beneath. Gale had always said that I didn't know my own mind. Maybe he was right. I was as surprised as he was at how I reacted when he kissed me. I hadn't realized how much I needed him.

Annie helped. It was annoying, but she pushed me to think about things I did not want to think about – about Peeta, about Gale, about life. About what I was I so afraid of. She seemed so sweet, but she was one of the bravest people I knew. She was able to have a child in the middle of a war, to send Finnick back into the fray, to smile for little Finnie despite all she has lost.

I still didn't think I could do what Annie had done. But I could listen to Peeta who told me that it was okay to be happy. And I could admit that I needed Gale. He had brought parts of me that I thought were gone back to life. The easy thing to do would be to spend all of my time kissing him, to be lost in his lips. He didn't seem to mind either. But every once in a while we had to break off and deal with life.

"Katniss," Gale said, leaning his forehead against mine, "How about if I go get Davy and Jonah to help carry Mr. Ugly up to the house?"

"I can do it," I said.

"But you don't have to," he said. "I think we are going to need to dig a fire pit anyway. They can help with that."

"While I sit around helplessly and watch?"

"No, while you skin and clean Mr. Ugly, unless you'd rather dig."

"I guess this big boy's going be a lot of work," I said.

"But well worth it. There's a ton of meat on him." Gale gave me one more kiss.

"Alright, I'll stay here and watch him while you get the boys. But can you send Annie down to see him?" I asked.

"Sure," he said, starting for the house. "Don't let him wander off," he called back.

"I'll keep an eye on him," I said with a smile, watching as he jogged up the hill.

I looked past Mr. Ugly, out to the ocean. It was mid-afternoon and anyone else would probably think it was too warm. For me it was just right. What a day. What a week. I usually didn't like change. In my life changes had mostly been for the worse. But now everything had changed. My heart rate was still not back to normal and for some reason I didn't mind. I leaned back on the rock and ate a blackberry. Would I blush every time I ate a blackberry for the rest of my life?

"Katniss!" Annie called, "Gale said you had a surpr - Oh, my gosh! What is that thing?"

"It's a wild boar. Isn't it great? Let's roast it and have a giant party," I said with a grin.

Annie looked puzzled. She put Finnie down and let him crawl over to inspect the boar. She stared at me intently.

"_You_ have been kissed," she said.

I couldn't believe she knew. I tried to act like it was no big deal. "And not by Mr. Ugly."

"Who?"

"That's what we are calling this guy," I gave the boar a friendly nudge.

"What happened?" Annie was not interested in the boar.

I rolled my eyes at her. "I guess we were just celebrating our biggest kill ever."

"I guess." She folded her arms and gave up on interrogating me. "So what do we do with this thing?" she asked.

"Gale wants to dig a fire pit and roast it. I can clean it. Do you want the hide?"

"It's probably better to trade it. I wouldn't know what to do with it."

The boys were back soon. Davy and Jonah were suitably impressed. I had never seen Gale with such a big smile on his face.

We decided that we needed to go up near the house to dig the pit, where the earth wasn't quite so sandy. Gale called back to District 2 to talk to his friend Doc. Doc had been the one who told him about roasting in a fire pit. Gale took notes while Doc explained what was apparently a long, complicated process. After he got off the phone he called a meeting in the kitchen with Annie, Susan, Davy, Jonah, Finnie and I. We got to see Sergeant Hawthorne in action.

We were all assigned different jobs. Davy, Jonah and Gale would get the fire pit and spit ready while I skinned and gutted the beast and Annie and her Mom made a marinade. Tomorrow they'd get the stuffing ready. Davy and Jonah were already planning a trip to the market so we would all work on a list for them. Meanwhile, Finnie would just crawl around and try to cause trouble.

The boys brought Mr. Ugly into the shed and hung him up so I could get to him. Gale loaned me his knife. Then they left to go dig the pit. It had been a long time since I had cleaned anything bigger than a rabbit. I was glad I was in the shed where no one would be watching. This was going to be tough. After a few minutes of struggling I heard a noise behind me and whipped around, ready to kill Gale if he was laughing at me. But it wasn't him at all. Susan was standing in the door of the shed.

"I got to thinking that you would need more help this afternoon than Annie," she said.

I hardly knew what to say. "Do you know anything about cleaning an animal?" I asked.

"Actually, I do," she said. "I've mostly done fish, being from District 4. But when I was a girl we were allowed to raise pigs. I've watched my Dad and uncles clean a hog. We can figure it out."

So Susan and I wrestled with Mr. Ugly. I was very glad to have her help. It took more than one pair of hands, and more than my scrawny muscles. Plus, Susan was just about as nice as Annie and working with her made the job go faster.

By the time we finished I was exhausted, filthy, and starving. It was well past our usual dinner time. We washed off with the hose, but I took one look at the ocean and decided that I had to have a swim before we ate. The boys looked like they were almost done with their pit. I left Gale's knife nearby and walked down to the water. I felt too grimy to go into the house and get a swimsuit. Instead I kicked off my shoes and just went into the surf with all of my clothes on. I lay down in the shallow water and let the waves wash over me.

After a while I heard a laugh. I opened my eyes to see Gale sitting next to me in the water.

"You alive?" he asked.

I mumbled something in response.

"You should have chosen digging the pit," he said. "I think it was easier."

I rolled over and propped myself up on my elbows. "You couldn't have handled cleaning that big boy. Good thing I took care of it for you."

Davy and Jonah came splashing into the water. "Are you coming for a real swim?" Gale asked.

"I can't really swim in these clothes," I said, sitting up. "I think I'll go up to the house and get dressed."

"Annie said dinner was almost ready," Gale said as he stood up and offered me a hand.

"I'll see you in a bit," I said. I gave him a quick kiss and he went bounding off into the water with the others.

* * *

Showers are a great invention. I loved to stand under the water and imagine that it is my own private rain. After I showered I decided to indulge in Annie's lavender scented lotion, instead of my usual medical stuff. Then I realized why I wanted to smell nice. For him. What was wrong with me? I fell back on the bed and tried to sort through my thoughts.

My brain hadn't felt right since I'd seen the flash of Gale's leg flying through the air when the boar threw him off. I'd frozen. Even with however many hundred pounds of beast charging at me, all I'd been able to think of was Gale lying broken on the forest floor. If the animal hadn't been seriously slowed down by then he would have rammed me.

My heart was pounding again just thinking about it. Gale wasn't just my friend, not just my hunting partner. It was like he was part of me. No matter how happy I had been with Peeta, something had been missing when I hated Gale. Peeta had tried to tell me that, but I'd been too stubborn to listen.

This time I needed to do things right. If nothing else, I had always tried to be honest with Gale, even when I wasn't sure what I was thinking. Now two things had become crystal clear to me – two things I needed to tell Gale. And I was scared to death. But losing Peeta had given me this feeling of urgency, that anything I didn't say today I might never get a chance to say. So I would do it. Gale wasn't that dangerous, was he?

There had been no time to prepare a big feast tonight. Everyone was just grabbing some reheated clam chowder and bread. Gale and I sat on the back stairs to eat. I couldn't believe that it was just this morning that we had fixed these stairs. So much had happened since then.

After dinner we put an old trough down in the root cellar. It barely fit down the stairs. Then the boys brought down Mr. Ugly. We put him in the trough, poured the marinade over him, and covered him with a tarp. The boys have a freezer over at their house and Davy drove some ice over to keep Mr. Ugly cool. Then Annie padlocked the cellar to keep critters out.

Gale had started a campfire over by the pit. He and Jonah had gathered a bunch of firewood for the pit and there was some left over. Jonah also cut down a sapling to use as a spit, and Gale had found two forked pieces of wood shaped like "Y"s to hold up the spit. We settled around the campfire to finish the final touches, for this night anyway, to our big job. Davy and Jonah were stripping the spit and then hardening it in the fire. Gale and I each had one of the forked pieces to whittle and then fire harden, although mine was old wood so it would have to be soaked in water first. Annie and Susan were scraping the back of the hide to get all the gross stuff off so Davy and Jonah could take it to market tomorrow.

Annie kept looking at her watch. I got the feeling that she was up to something. It was late and Finnie was already down for the night. Sure enough, she finally got up and ran into the kitchen. She came out a few minutes later with plates, forks and something called a blackberry cobbler that she had made from the blackberries I had picked. Maybe Annie showing off with her cooking was a good thing as that was one of the best things I had ever eaten, although it did leave all of us with purple mouths.

"I decided that we shouldn't save the blackberries for tomorrow. They looked too good," Annie said.

"That's okay," I said. "There are tons of them in the forest. If you want more for the party we can pick some more tomorrow."

Gale winked at me and I blushed.

"That must have been the most . . . productive hunting trip ever," said Davy, with a weird smile.

Gale's neck went taut. I looked down and noticed that his hand, which had been whittling with his knife, was frozen and tense. He shot Davy a look that could only be described as ominous. The temperature around the campfire seemed to have dropped.

Davy was a burly guy, probably bigger than Gale, although not taller. But he looked abashed. The coldness in Gale's eyes reminded me that he was a soldier and knew how to kill people. Had killed people. Davy looked down and said "We're pretty lucky to get to feast on blackberries tonight and wild boar later."

I heard Gale take a deep breath and saw the tension leave him. Annie was chatting with her mom. I didn't think she had noticed anything at all. I reached over and stroked Gale's arm and he looked at me with a gentle smile. Whatever that was, it was over now.

Once I was done with my cobbler I didn't have much to do, since I had my wood soaking now. I started messing around with some of the dandelions which were growing everywhere. I was still embarrassed about my little fit the night before. Maybe I could make it up to Gale. He wouldn't know it, but I was also sending an answer to Peeta. I was going to listen to him. I could picture his face, eyebrows raised, surprised, but pleased.

Davy and Jonah finished up the spit. All that was left was to watch it and turn it in the coals. Since Gale and I were already doing that for our wood, we offered to watch the spit for them and they headed home. Annie and Susan were done with the hide. They wrapped it up and gave it to the boys before they left, then they went in. That left Gale and I. I suddenly noticed that we were very unchaperoned. This was the time for me to tell him what I needed to. I thought of Haymitch and wished that I had a drink.

By now I had finished my dandelion crown. I took it over to Gale and plopped it on his head.

"Sorry about last night," I said. "Here, you be the dandelion king."

He laughed. "You're forgiven. Come here." I sat down next to him and put my head in his lap. There was a bush of babies' breath nearby and he started picking the white flowers off and putting them in my hair.

"How about this kind of crown for you?" he said, and then he leaned down and kissed me.

"So what was going on with you and Davy?" I asked after a bit.

"You noticed that? He's just made some wise cracks I didn't like, about you and me in the woods." A tendon in Gale's neck showed his tension.

I sat up and kissed his neck. "He was right, you know."

"That makes it worse," he said, leaning to open his neck to me.

"Aren't you proud of me?" I said. "I am getting more observant."

He gave a soft laugh. "Like how you thought I was asleep yesterday?"

I sat back and glared at him. "You little sneak! You were awake the whole time."

"I couldn't miss one of the most incredible experiences of my life," he said as he took one of my hands and tried to massage it. I pulled it back.

"Why didn't you say something?" I turned my back to him. "Dang. You are a good actor. How can I trust you?"

"I didn't want to scare you off. Come on, Catnip, you know you can trust me." He started to rub my shoulders. This time I didn't pull away. His strong hands were melting my muscles. It was so hard to stay mad at him. That was the problem with him.

He broke off to reach into the fire pit and turn the spit. I flipped our two pieces of wood, then sat back and leaned into his arm. He turned his face and gave me a gentle kiss, then his hand held the back of my head as he deepened the kiss. I had to smile as I tasted blackberries again.

"What?" he asked.

"I'm never going to feel the same about blackberries," I said.

"They are my new favorite fruit," he said. He shook his head. "Sometimes I feel like I have to kiss you to find out what you are thinking."

"So what was I thinking just now?" I asked.

"You were trying to be mad at me and failing spectacularly." His sly grin sparkled in the fire light. Then he looked into the fire and grew serious. "The first time I ever kissed you I was amazed that you could be so surprised. How could you not have known how much I wanted to kiss you?"

I did not want to discuss those long ago kisses. "What about the kiss in the forest today? What did that tell you?"

"That you were very glad I had not been gutted by Mr. Ugly." The impish smile was back.

"What about the one on the beach, after?" I liked this topic.

"Then you let me know that the first one was not a fluke."

I sat up on my knees and tilted my face so that I could better meet his lips. I ran my tongue over his teeth and heard him suck in his breath. He lay back on the blanket taking me with him. Maybe the best way to give him the first message I needed to was with a kiss. My mind was saying the words over and over as our mouths merged.

I sat up on one arm and whispered "What was that kiss telling you?"

"You tell me," he said. His face told me that he knew, but he wanted to hear me say it. Fair enough. We both sat up. I let myself be lost in his dark gray eyes.

I was so close, but the words caught in my throat. I took his hand and put it over my heart so he would feel it pounding. Then I leaned in and kissed him again, hoping that my lips would tell him what I couldn't bring myself to say. What was wrong with me? I had finally been able to tell Peeta I loved him and had found that it wasn't such a horrible thing at all. I knew that I loved Gale. Surely, he knew it too? He would be here for the rest of the week. I would find a way to tell him.

He sighed then reached around to my back and eased me down onto the blanket. He kissed the scar on my cheek, then traced it with his tongue.

"This has always been my favorite scar," he said into my ear.

"You have a favorite of my scars?" I couldn't help but laugh.

"It gave me hope." He looked deep into my eyes. "You know, you never told me what you'd done when I was whipped. No one told me. I asked you what happened to your cheek and you lied. You said you had fallen."

"You were in so much pain. I didn't want to add worrying over me," I said.

"Don't do that to me again. Don't lie to me to protect me."

"What – like you deceived me to keep from frightening me just yesterday?" I wasn't going to let him get away from that.

"Okay, I won't do that to you again. I promise." He was up on one arm now, running his warm finger over my scar. The dandelions were falling off of his head. I lifted them off with one hand and placed them carefully on the ground next to me. I looked up at him. "It wasn't until I was back in the mines that I found out what you had done. Bristel said 'That girl of yours is unbelievable.' And he told me how you took the lash for me. It made me hope that you did love me, in your own screwed up, you-couldn't-even-let-me-know-about-it-way." He leaned over and kissed me again. I had so much to make up to him. So many times I had messed with his head.

He kissed my scar again, then started a line of kisses down my neck to my collarbone. My thoughts slid into mush as I thrilled at his touch. "You smell good," he whispered in between kisses. "What is it?"

"Lavender. Annie's lotion." I tried to focus and slid my hand up under his shirt. My finger found his scar upon a scar and I felt its outline. He groaned and pressed into me.

"This is my favorite of your scars," I said. I wasn't sure he had heard; he was pretty intent on my collarbone. Then he looked up at me "What kind of messed up people are we to each have a favorite scar?" He was smiling though.

"That is the one that you got when you went into the Capitol for the rescue." Of course, we both knew who he was rescuing, but I wasn't ready to say his name. "I was so selfish and you were so good to me."

"I would do anything for you," he whispered. His warm mouth met mine again and once again my thoughts floated away as my body enjoyed him. I was dimly aware of his hand stroking over my shirt. I arched without thinking, wanting to be closer to him. I had something else I needed to tell him, but I couldn't keep it in the front of my brain. Then I felt his hand begin to unbutton the top button of my blouse and it came back to me in a rush.

I needed to talk to him. I had to get away from him so that I could pull my brain back together. I began to plan my escape. I pulled up onto my elbows and pressed into his kiss. I slipped one ankle over the other and planted my foot flat on the ground. My mind tried to slide into pleasure and I forced it back under control.

"_One, two, three_," I thought, then I dropped away from him, flat onto the ground, ducked under his arm, and rolled out from under him. I jumped up and walked away from the campfire, rebuttoning my blouse with shaking fingers.

"What the . . . ." He fell onto the blanket. I almost laughed, but when he looked up his eyes were hard and angry. "What was that for?" He sprung up and stood glaring at me across the fire.

"I have something I need to talk to you about." I said, looking away from the fury in his face. But a pleading note crept into my voice. "You were muddling my thoughts. I had to get some space."

"Then just tell me to back off. Don't do that to me. Don't act like I am some kind of jerk you need to run away from." The hurt in his voice pulled me back toward him.

"I'm sorry," I said, as I turned toward him. "It wasn't you I was afraid of. It was me . . . I was losing control. I couldn't hold onto my thoughts."

"Catnip," he said softly, "Its okay to lose control. We aren't kids anymore." I knew what he was talking about. I couldn't put it off any more. He was not going to be happy about what I had to say.

"Come here," I said. I went back to the campfire. I reached in and turned the wood again. He moved the spit to harden a different section. I sat cross-legged and he did too, facing me. I took his hands in mine.

"I have something I have to tell you, that you are not going to like," I tried to keep the quiver out of my voice. Why was I such a coward about this? I didn't want to hurt him.

"What's going on?" he asked. "You can tell me anything. You know that."

I took a deep breath. This was not going to get any easier.

"I want to wait until I am married this time."

* * *

**Thanks again to Irish Luck 19 for her wonderful beta (and alpha) work.**

**Thanks to all my readers. Even more thanks (no hard feelings readers) to my reviewers: HopeNeverDies, Iluvdinos, MountainAir, RipredtheGnawer, EchoDeltaNine, BookADDICT6, Hunger Games Girl 127, Katieg343, NightWolf, Analyn Lana Ruse, Toolazytosignin, Kina Kalamari, Oobay, An interested fan, The Dark Games, Solaryllis, Daydreaming Viking Girl, cattastrophies, .xX, and PlainlyIronic **


	18. Thrown

**Still don't own the Hunger Games, etc.**

**Thrown**

It took a minute for her words to sink in.

"You didn't make Peeta wait," I blurted.

Katniss turned away and folded her arms. "We're not going to discuss how long Peeta and I did or didn't wait," she said, clipping each word.

I wasn't handling this well. A million thoughts flashed through my brain, most of them vicious. Annie had told me to take things slow with Katniss. I hadn't done that. I had resolved not to slight Peeta. I hadn't pulled that off either.

I gripped my hands behind my neck and turned my face up to the sky. It was taking an amazing amount of effort to sit here on the ground near Katniss. I needed to take a walk, a run, something. But now was not the time for it.

I had thought, with all of that talk about what kisses can mean, that Katniss's kisses tonight were sending me a very clear message. She'd never kissed me like that before. I had been hoping to take a blanket down to a little cove down the beach, where we could be alone, and there under the stars . . . . I needed to shut those thoughts off or I would never be able to have this conversation.

So I tried again. I kept my hands locked behind my neck as I looked at the back of Katniss's head. I narrowed all my thoughts down to one word: "Why?" I hated that I sounded like a five year old.

"Don't be mad," she said. She turned back toward me and took my hands. "Just listen. I'll try to explain."

I closed my eyes. "Okay." I still couldn't trust myself with more than one word at a time.

"We have a chance to do things right. Everything with Peeta was such a mess. We were forced into so many things: lying to each other, lying to the world. I didn't know what was me, what I felt and what was an act to stay alive." She stopped. I could almost see the memories flashing across her face as she winced: the interviews, the Arena, the Victory Tour.

"Okay, so we don't have to lie. But what is the connection?" I had no idea where she was going with this, but so far I couldn't argue with her.

"Just wait. Annie has told me a lot about her time with Finnick. Did you know that they waited until they were married?"

I laughed before I could stop myself. "Finnick? It's not like he waited." Maybe that was harsh to point out, but it was true.

"I know. And . . . things had happened to Annie, too." I didn't want to think about what she meant by that. I was afraid that I knew. "That's why they waited. They wanted it to be different when they were together: special, right . . . sacred." She whispered the last word.

"This is some pretty deep water you are getting into," I said, but she ignored me.

"That's what I want. Peeta and I . . . we were sloppy. We never had a proper wedding. Nothing was the way it should be. He knew it was important; I didn't think so then, but now . . . I wish that I'd done things differently."

I didn't know what to say to that. I couldn't give her my opinion on whether she and Peeta should have gotten married or not. It was a bit late to worry about that.

But in the silence I knew she was waiting for a response. I took a deep breath."I only know about a half dozen people who even care about waiting until marriage. You would have to be one of them."

Katniss gave me a curious look. "Besides Annie and Finnick – who else?"

"Captain Brighton and his wife. He gave me a bit of a lecture before I came here." Actually, I had barely listened since I thought the chances that she would let me touch her were pretty low. "One of the guys in my squad, Redstone. He said a couple of things to me when the others were discussing women. That took a lot of guts. And . . ." The last ones were painful to think about.

"Who?" she pressed.

"My parents."

Katniss let out a surprised laugh. "How do you even know about that?" she asked. She was right. It wasn't like my dad had been around to talk to me about this stuff.

"Because of my birthday," I answered as I pulled my hands away from her. I found a small branch on the ground and scratched in the sooty dirt with it. There were a lot of things we stopped discussing when dad died. "I was born exactly nine months after they got married. It used to be a big family joke." I felt my chest cramp, just thinking about my birthday, long ago, when I was a kid, before . . . .

Katniss moved to my side and put her arms around me. "I'm sorry," she said. She waited with me while I pulled myself back together.

After a while she asked "So what do you say?"

"I think being a thousand miles away from you will help. I don't know . . . Wait. No. This is important to you, so okay." I leaned my forehead against hers. I tried to sort through the implications. If she was saying she wanted to wait until she was married, did that mean that she was considering . . . .

"I know this will be hard for you," she said. "It's hard for me." That was nice to know.

"Let's get married tomorrow," I said, only partly joking.

"No, wait. I didn't mean . . . . I'm a widow. Look, I . . . ."

So once again she didn't know what she wanted and I was left hanging. I pushed her away and walked into the darkness away from the fire. I needed to learn not to get my hopes up. Or maybe I needed to just get away from her. I paced through the weeds. What an idiot I was thinking that this time would be different.

I felt Katniss standing behind me and froze.

She put her hand on my arm. "Gale?"

I turned on her. "I'm not signing up for another couple years as your disposable best friend."

I was glad to see the shock in her eyes. Had she even thought about what she had put me through?

"That's not what I meant," she said in a small voice then went back and sat down near the fire, her face hidden in her hands.

I suddenly remembered that we needed to turn the wood. I went over and flipped over the long spit, then turned the smaller pieces. I stood and watched the dying fire, bright flames dancing over the charred wood. I fought the urge to just give it up and go back to the boys' house.

"So what do you want from me?" I clenched my eyes, hating the bitter edge in my voice.

She pressed one side of her face against her own clenched hands. "I don't know. I just thought we might try . . . . I don't know."

"That's the problem. You never know what you want from me."

"I know," she said, still not looking at me. "I'm sorry."

I sighed. I shouldn't have pushed her like that. She had been through so much. It wasn't her fault that I only had a few days to be here. I took a deep breath and sat back down next to her. When I put my arm around her she hid her face in my chest and I kissed her temple. "No, I'm sorry. There's no rush. If you want to try . . . being together and see what happens that is fine with me."

We sat and watched the fire. The last of the larger logs was a glowing coal with golden flames lapping up its sides. There was something mesmerizing about the fire. Or maybe my brain just needed a break.

I felt Katniss stir. She looked up into my face and said "You're not disposable. You know I'd never think that." She reached up and pulled me down to her, into a gentle kiss. I felt like we were reconnecting after being very far away from each other. It was amazing how all tension slid away as my world focused down to one pair of sweet lips. Katniss must have felt it too. I could feel her softening in my arms.

I finally broke away. "So what are the rules then? Apparently kissing is allowed."

"Yes, within reason. I need your kisses, but no lying down and . . . um . . . all hands on deck." She leaned back into my arm.

"Come on," I said, standing up. "I think the smaller pieces of wood are done now." We pulled them out, then decided to put the fire out and bury the last part of the spit in the leftover coals. We walked, hand in hand, down to the beach to fill up some buckets with water. The wood hissed and steamed when we dumped the water on it.

"I'll walk you home," I said to Katniss, and we turned and went up Annie's back steps. I stopped outside the back door. If we were going to behave, it would be better if I didn't even go in. I gave her one last kiss. She said good night over her shoulder as she slipped into the house.

During the walk back to the boys' house I realized that I was so tired I was about to fall asleep on my feet. I felt drained. What an amazing day. Even with the fight it had been easily one of the best days of my life. I just needed to rein myself in and be patient with Katniss. That was turning out to be easier said than done.

* * *

I woke around dawn and headed down to the beach. I resolved to make this my longest run yet. Half of the sky was clear this morning, but to the north there were dark clouds building. I ended my run by heading back toward Annie's. I was surprised to see, once again, Katniss sitting up on the rock.

"Hey," I said as I reached her. "You're up early."

She rolled her eyes at me. "I'm starting to like sunrises."

I climbed up on the rock next to her and we watched the sky change from grey to a spectacular orange.

"We need to go back into the forest this morning," Katniss said. "I didn't get all of the herbs on my list. Do you know when the boys are going into town?"

"After breakfast." If she wanted to start afresh and forget last night's quarreling that was fine with me.

I hurried back and showered and we went into the woods before breakfast. Just like old times. I brought an orange I had snagged from the boys and she brought some bread.

"So what do we need to find?" I asked.

"The alyssum still, bloodroot, lemon thyme, betony, . . . ." She paused. A shadow crossed her face. I gave her a questioning look and she held the list out so that I could see it:_ "Rue."_

I put my arm around her. "Come on. We can do this."

We managed to find everything except the alyssum. Katniss bagged a couple more rabbits, too, and I got one out of a snare. When we got back to Annie's Davy and Jonah were there and Annie was just putting a huge plate of pancakes on the table. Perfect timing.

We spent breakfast making lists, lots of lists: a list of things we were going to eat at the party; a list of people who were invited; a list of things we needed from the market. I was starting to realize that this little shindig was going to be expensive, but no one else seemed to mind. I had my own list in my head – a few things I needed to pick up in town. I was glad I had brought some money.

When Annie said she didn't want to go into town, Katniss pulled me aside.

"Would you mind if I stayed home with Annie?" she asked.

"No," I said. "I think I can handle the trading." I didn't tell her that I was glad she wasn't going. It would make it easier for me to get everything I needed. "Just go over the herbs with me – show me what is what, tell me how much each one is worth."

* * *

As we set off down the road Davy said to Jonah "There are a couple more names we need to add to that party list, aren't there?" I could tell he was teasing him. Jonah acted like he was studying the list intently, but his face colored.

I looked at Davy with raised eyebrows. He grinned wickedly. "Jonah's got a thing for this pretty blonde bee-keeper. He's just figured out how sweet honey is." Somehow his tone of voice made what could have been an innocent statement into something crude.

"So invite her," I said. "We're going to have plenty of food."

"I don't really know her at all. Davy, you've traded with her more. You should invite them, her and her dad." Of the two brothers, Jonah was definitely the shier. But he was also a nicer guy.

"No, you should do it," I said. "The worst she can say is 'no.'"

He looked at me. "She'd come if you asked her. You're famous and all," he mumbled with a strange mix of resentment and hope.

"No way," I said. "You want her there because you asked her. Just do it. Don't think about it too much. Besides, I have to go to the apothecary, and to do some other stuff. What if I meet back up with you after a while?"

I'd noticed how big the market was when I first got to town – more than enough to get lost in. We agreed to meet back at the giant clock tower in a couple of hours and they pointed the apothecary's shop out to me. I would just have to find the other things I needed on my own.

Mrs. Spicer was a nice lady. I told her I had brought some herbs from Katniss. She didn't act like she knew me or anything. That always felt much more normal. We negotiated a bit, although she didn't drive a very hard bargain. Or else she thought the prices Katniss had recommended to me were fair. She did seem disappointed that we hadn't found the alyssum. The others had told me to make sure to invite her and her husband to the party so I did.

As I was turning to leave the store I thought of something. "Do you know if there is a shop that sells hardware? Things you might buy to fix a boat or something?" If she could send me the right direction it would save a lot of time.

She nodded and sketched an imaginary map for me on the counter. It was called McBride & Sons and it was down by the pier. I was going to have to hurry to get down there and back in time.

As I started to go she said "Wait," and grabbed my hand to stop me. "It's best if you go around this way. The docks are here and that is . . . not such a good place to cut through, especially if you aren't from around here."

"Not very friendly?"

"Not the best part of District 4."

I went the long way. I doubted that there would really be any trouble in the docks, but I didn't have any time to waste. Except that the long way proved to be a lot longer than she had made it look in the phantom map. So I was wasting time anyway.

Once I got to the pier, the place was easy to find. I didn't have time to look around. I went to the counter and asked the man if they sold gold or silver wire. He was a man of few words. He nodded and pulled out a rod with dozens of spools of different types of wire. I found what I wanted, although the gold wire was nearly gone. He sold me the rest of that spool and a length of silver wire. They were expensive, but I had known that they would be.

As I was finishing up I saw a beautiful hunting knife under the counter. It was a little smaller than mine and it had a mother of pearl handle. McBride brought it out and I could tell by the way he handled it that he thought it was special. He handed it to me and I tested the blade – razor sharp. So I bought it for Katniss. It wasn't a very romantic gift, but she had borrowed my knife several times lately. I couldn't give her mine; I needed it too much. But I would feel better if she had her own when she went into the woods alone. A bow and arrow couldn't work for everything.

It felt strangely good to spend that much money. I had been making better money in the army than I did in the mines and spending hardly any of it. I sent half my paychecks to my mom to help her out with the kids, and I had tried before to help Annie out, to cover some of the cost of having Katniss live with her, but she wouldn't hear of it. It was nice to be able to put some of my money to good use.

I checked the clock before I left the shop. My long walk down to the pier was going to make me late, especially if I repeated it on the way back. I decided to risk the docks.

I felt the change of atmosphere as I neared the docks - no women or children around, a lingering stench of fish and filth. I caught the wary eyes that watched me, noticing a stranger, sizing me up. Let them. Although the sensation of being watched was always unnerving. Just like with the boar in the forest; some of these guys were even uglier than he was.

I heard footsteps behind me and turned my head slightly to listen: there were two men whose pace quickened when I did. I looked back to glare at them, hoping that they would take a hike when they knew I was onto them. No such luck.

The street toward the market was just ahead. When I turned the corner, we'd be out of sight of the docks. That was probably a good thing. These two were locals and more likely to have allies among the other workers than I was. It would be two on one, but I'd faced much worse odds than that. As soon as I rounded the corner I flipped around, ready to face them. At least I would start this on my own terms.

As soon as they came around, hurrying, thinking that maybe I was trying to run away, the first guy saw me and went into a crouch, a knife in his left hand. He was burly, built like a fisherman, with a huge scar marring his upper lip. The second guy instinctively took a step back. If I could deal with Knife Guy convincingly enough his buddy would take off on his own.

I focused on Knife Guy. He held his knife like he knew how to use it, but the rest of him seemed off balance. Maybe he wasn't used to dealing with prey that fought back instead of running.

"You're not from around here." He marked my steps. I just went back and forth, wanting to keep the high ground. "Round here you have to pay a tax to walk on the docks."

He seemed to think he was being witty. I didn't reply.

"You can pay the tax in money or blood. Your choice."

"Nope." I didn't see any point in chatting with the guy.

One thing that Mercurius had shown us was that you should watch your opponent's hips. A good fighter would feint, with their head, eyes, arms, shoulders. But when they moved, their hips would show where they were going. So I kept moving back and forth, eyes on his hips, waiting for him to move. I could tell that he wasn't a trained fighter.

"I'm giving you one chance to back off," I said. "This is not going to be a fair fight."

He just laughed. Which I expected. It was probably just as well, because even if he backed off I would have to watch my back for a long time. If he knew how to throw that knife I would be in trouble.

His move came quickly. He lunged with his knife hand, going straight for my gut. He expected me to try to block him, not to use his own momentum against him. I grabbed his wrist, turned my back toward him, pulled him forward by his wrist and flipped him over me. He landed with a heavy thud. In practice, we were always careful to let go of the wrist once the flip started. But I needed to disable this guy, so I held onto his wrist and heard a crunch in his shoulder as he fell.

The air was knocked out of him. I slipped the knife out of his hand and turned to check on his friend. As I had suspected, he was already taking off.

"No tax today," I said and I chucked his knife across the street, off the dock, and into the water. I picked up the bag I had dropped and headed back for the market before he could get back up. I looked back once and saw him sitting on the ground cradling his arm.

My heart was pounding and once I was in the market I leaned up against a wall to pull myself back together. The worst thing was that part of me had enjoyed the fight. Back in the mines, fights were never something I had time to think about. When they happened I just acted out of blind rage. I tried not to get into too many fights since my family couldn't afford to have me miss work. In GDU I hadn't fought unless I had to, but that was also before I had learned much technique. In the gym we sparred all the time and it was a good way to work off excess energy. And this fight hadn't been nearly as tough as sparring with someone who knew what they were doing.

I got to the clock before Jonah and Davy did. I wasn't sure if I even wanted to tell them about the incident down by the docks. As soon as I saw them approaching through the crowd I could tell that Jonah's girl must have said "yes." He had a giant smile on his face.

But Davy was looking at me warily. "Did you go down by the docks?" he asked. I didn't think it had been that obvious.

"Yeah, I went to McBride's."

"Any trouble?"

"On my way back I think I broke some guy's shoulder."

"You serious?"

I nodded.

"What'd he look like?"

"Burly guy, big scar on his lip."

"That's Slash. You broke his shoulder?"

"I heard it crunch."

He grinned. "He's going to have a hard time living that down." By that time we had gotten back to their truck.

"Hey, we got you something," Davy said as he thrust a paper into my hand. "Looks like you made the news again."

I glanced at it. "Mason and Hawthorne – Together Again?" The photo was Johanna, alone, looking over her shoulder. I sighed and stuffed the paper under my arm.

Being happy must make Jonah talkative. All the way home he chattered about what we needed to do to get ready for the party. I hadn't heard him say that many words the whole time I had been in town. After a while I tuned him out and took another look at the paper. How did they cook up a romance from a picture of Johanna by herself?

The caption under the picture read: "Johanna Mason caught sneaking into Gale Hawthorne's room." So that's how. Then I checked the picture. I looked closer. That did look like my door, in fact, the right side of my door frame was dented. That was it. It was also definitely Johanna, recognizable even though she had on some sort of ugly black cap. She had been caught looking over her shoulder, a clear picture. There must have been a camera there in the hall. I'd have to keep that in mind. She wasn't wearing her fatigues, but all black. She looked sneaky. Of course, she must have been meeting someone – in my room. I knew I'd left the door locked, but I was sure it wouldn't be that hard to pick. Who was she meeting?

I glanced over the rest of the front page. "Body Found in Presidential Mansion: President's Aide Dead of Overdose." Every cover was the same – a little romance, a little death. I sighed and tucked the paper back under my arm. Listening to Jonah prattle was better than reading that trash.

When we walked into Annie's great smells assaulted us. The girls had been cooking all morning long. As I peeked into the kitchen I saw Katniss looking like quite the chef. She had on an apron and flour all over. It was even in her hair. I came up behind her and wrapped my arms around her.

She turned and beamed at me. "Guess what? I made lunch. Annie taught me how to make fried clam sandwiches. They are almost ready." They had made tons of bread and Katniss was fishing fried clams out of a huge pot of hot grease, then draining them on some towels.

I grabbed one of the finished ones and popped it my mouth. "Ow! Hot." I sucked in some air over it trying to cool it off so I could finish it.

Katniss stepped between me and the cooked clams. "Go away. These aren't cooled yet." I'd never seen her cook in a real kitchen before, although she knew how to roast a rabbit over a fire. I guess a real stove wouldn't be too hard after that.

I went and washed my hands then grabbed a glass of lemonade.

"Lunch is ready!" Annie called.

We took some lemonade and sandwiches out and sat on the back stairs to eat. I looked at her between bites and said "This is amazingly good."

Katniss beamed. "Annie's a brilliant teacher. I didn't think I could pull something like this off. How was town?"

"Interesting," I said.

I heard the phone ring inside.

"I took a shortcut down by the docks . . ."

"Why were you down there?" she asked and I realized that I didn't want to tell her why I'd been at McBride's.

"Gale," said Annie from the door. "The phone's for you."

That was strange. Maybe it was Doc with more tips on how to roast our boar.

I went inside and took the phone from Annie. "Hello?"

"Sergeant Hawthorne. This is Captain Brighton. Is your trip going well?"

"Yes, sir," I said, standing up a little straighter.

"I'm sorry to hear that," he replied.

"Excuse me, sir?"

"No, I am glad things are going well, but it makes what I need to tell you more difficult. A special mission of the highest importance has come up for your squad and I need you back here as soon as possible."

"How soon?"

"There's a train that leaves District 4 for District 2 tonight at 6:30. I need you to be on it."

* * *

**Thanks to my brilliant beta IrishLuck19. Always worth the wait (and school is real life.)**

**Thanks to all my readers and particularly those who take the time to review: Cattastrophies, RipredtheGnawer, EchoDeltaNine, HungerGamesGirl127, LawandOrderSVUAlways, Daydreaming Viking Girl, Howlynn, Solaryllis, Iluvdinos, WisdomGoddess26, Bakerboi6, Analyn Lana Ruse, Kina Kalamari, Grace Victoria, LawAndOrderSVUAlways (go easy on the ALLCAPS – you could hurt yourself!), and allie. **


	19. Storm Clouds

**I don't own the Hunger Games, Catching Fire, Mockingjay or any of their inhabitants.**

**Storm Clouds**

I heard Gale hang up the phone. After a few minutes, when he still hadn't come out, I decided to go see what was taking him so long.

At first I thought he wasn't in the kitchen. Then I saw him, sitting on the floor by the cabinets, his head on his knees, his hands clutching his hair. My heart froze.

"Gale, what happened?" I asked, as I sank to my knees next to him.

He gave a huge sigh and lifted his head as though it took enormous effort. "That was Captain Brighton. I have to go back. Right away. Tonight."

I sat down next to him. I took his hand and interlaced our fingers. "I thought someone had died," I said, breathing deeply to get my heart rate down again.

"I guess it's not as bad as that," he said, but his voice was faint. "I just . . . it's only . . . it's Wednesday. I'm supposed to be here until Saturday."

I sat with him in silence for a while. Then I asked "When do you have to leave?"

"There's a train that leaves at 6:30. I have to be on it."

"Why? What's going on?"

"He was kind of mysterious. He said that there is a special mission of a highly classified nature that has come up in just the last couple of days. My squad has been assigned and he wants me there." Gale's voice sounded like a machine, just repeating the words he had heard over the phone. "There's something else."

"What?"

"He doesn't want anyone to know that he called me and asked me to come back. He wants me to act like I just came back on my own." This seemed to make him as miserable as any of the rest of it.

"So? What difference does that make?"

He turned his face towards me. "It means we have to start out with lies. I have to let them think things did not go well with you and me. Otherwise I'd never have left early."

"Oh," I said. "Well, how long do you have to keep that up?"

"Only until the mission's over. Four days."

"What if you said no?" I asked without thinking.

"Technically he could order me to come back. Then I'd be arrested if I didn't. But he didn't make it an order. He just asked me if I would."

"And you can't say no." I knew he couldn't.

"Not to Captain Brighton. I owe him a lot, Katniss. I have to go."

I leaned back against the cabinets and tried to think of some way to keep him from going. I knew I was being irrational but . . . .

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"It's just that I feel like . . . like you are being reaped."

"No. It's not like that. It's just unexpected, that's all. But I signed up to be in the army; I get to go work with my squad; I was going to go back on Saturday anyway. And it's not like we have to fight to the death or anything. It's totally different."

I laid my head on his shoulder. "I don't suppose I could come with you?"

"I just have a few more weeks. Not even time for the army to process your paperwork if you wanted to re-up."

"You're right." I needed to calm down about this. "So what do you want to do for our last few hours?"

"We'd better go talk to Annie. There's still a lot that needs to be done for tomorrow." He stood up and offered me a hand.

I didn't protest because I knew Annie would agree with me. Gale was not going to spend his last few hours of vacation working for a party he wouldn't get to go to.

Annie and the others quickly assured us that there was nothing they couldn't get done on their own. It was one o'clock and since Gale didn't have to leave until almost six, we had the whole afternoon to ourselves.

"Do you want to go swimming?" I asked.

"Maybe, but first let's go back to the forest."

"You want to grab a rabbit to go?" I teased.

He gave me a slight smile. That was progress. "Maybe. Or maybe some blackberries. Wait a minute. I need to grab something inside."

Hmm. That was mysterious. He already had his knife with him. I reached into the kitchen for my bow and quiver.

"Annie," said Gale as he came back into the kitchen. "We are going into the woods for a bit. Do you need anything else?"

This boy needed to learn how to relax. "If you see any sage it would go well with the beast. But I already have rosemary and thyme from the garden so don't knock yourselves out." Annie gave us a flour- coated wave.

We held hands as we walked to the forest. Gale was silent, brooding.

"So what did you have to go back into the house for?" I asked, mainly because the quiet was bugging me.

"What?" Gale looked at me with a start, as though he had forgotten I was there.

"Nothing."

The forest's cool embrace was welcoming since even I was warm enough this afternoon. There were some storm clouds approaching. I hoped they wouldn't ruin Gale's last chance for an ocean swim, but knowing him, he would just go anyway.

We checked the snares, nothing, but it had only been a few hours since we had cleared them this morning. "Remember to check these, okay?" reminded Gale. Not like I would forget.

We found a blackberry bush and filled our bags. At least he could take some blackberries with. I didn't even try to make conversation. He seemed to have already checked out of District 4. Then he took my hand and led me back to the tree where we had kissed just yesterday. We both sat down, leaning against the great oak. He put his arm around me and I leaned back against his chest.

"It's so unfair that you have to miss the party," I said. "Maybe we should carve off a hunk of meat and cook it for you. You earned it."

"That's okay. I don't want to mess up Mr. Ugly. We'll just have to come back up here and bag another one some time." He took my hand and began to idly trace the outline with one of his fingers. He was just fidgeting, but his gentle touch sent shivers up my arm.

"There's one good thing about having to go back early. Captain Brighton seemed to feel real bad about the whole thing. So he said he would give me another whole week off to make it up to me."

"Really? That's great," I said. "How soon can you use it?"

"I'm not sure. It'll probably be at least a month before I can set it up. I had an idea though."

"What?"

"What if you took the train down and met me in District 12?" Now he began to trace the lines on my palm. Why was such a simple thing making it so hard for me to put a sentence together?

"When was the last time you were back?" I managed to ask.

"It's been a long time. My mom has been bugging me to come visit."

"That'd be great. You know, it's beautiful here, but I miss home."

"Does it feel like home again?" he asked.

"Parts of it do. The woods are the same. Our rock is still there. Some of the people have come back: Greasy Sae, Bristel, Thom."

"Are you sure you are ready for all of that?" He traced the veins in my wrist.

"What do you mean? All of what?" Had I missed something? I was having trouble focusing.

"This is the thing. If we go out in public together, sooner or later some photographer will snap a picture, and we'll end up on the cover of some magazine."

"I don't care about that. They don't get a vote in my life."

"Are you sure? They might not be very nice about it." Gale didn't seem to want to look at me while he said that.

"They're never nice. All they do is lie."

"So you'd be okay with headlines about the recently widowed Mockingjay dating her own cousin?" he asked.

I let out a huge sigh. "I wouldn't like it, but who would it hurt? We make sure Posy doesn't get her hands on any of that and no one else we care about would care."

"It could get worse than that." I couldn't figure out why Gale sounded so grim. "There's something I need to warn you about."

I took my hand away from him. If he wanted to have a serious conversation, he couldn't keep distracting me like that. So, of course, he grabbed a stick and began to draw in the dirt.

"I thought you said all those stories about you weren't true?" I was just teasing. Mostly.

"No, it's not that. Remember I told you about the Commission I'm on, the one to draft a new Code of War Conduct?"

"Yeah, the one Brighton put you on." He'd mentioned the Commission yesterday, and I had thought it sounded like a good idea.

"Besides the Code, there are also going to be some trials, war crimes trials." His voice had dropped and something about his tone made me nervous.

"So? What does that have to do with us?"

"I'm probably going to be charged."

Suddenly, I was cold. I shivered and Gale pulled me closer. "With what?"

"If anyone should know, it would be you." He stopped. He sounded too tired to go on, but after a moment he said "They are calling them 'crimes against humanity,' things that anyone should have known better than to do."

"And rebels can get charged, too?" My voice sounded small.

"Some people think it should only be about the Capitol. Beetee was frantic with me about it. But that doesn't make sense. If anyone can tell these things were wrong, that has to apply to all of us."

I didn't know what to say. His voice was resigned, but my mind was reeling. Then I thought of something so horrible . . .

"What are the penalties?"

"That's not settled yet. They are still debating whether the death penalty should apply to any of it. I think it is mostly going to be prison terms."

"But they wouldn't . . ." I couldn't pull my thoughts together. We were silent together.

"If you think the other headlines would be nasty . . . . I don't know if I can put you through all of that." Even in the quiet of the forest I could barely hear his voice.

"What do you mean?" My stomach was churning.

"Maybe . . . maybe, we should wait. Wait to be together until we find out where all of this is going."

I couldn't believe he would say that. I pulled away and sat back on my knees, facing him.

"Are you saying . . . Do you think . . . You want me to sit up here and watch you on T.V. and hide because I'm afraid of what some damned headline will say?" I was trying to stay calm, but I couldn't keep my voice down.

"I don't want all of this to hurt you." He was looking off into the woods.

"It's going to hurt me. If it hurts you, it hurts me. But if you think I would ever just hide away and let you go through something like that alone . . . . Do you even know me at all?" He sucked in his breath and looked at me. He looked like I had slapped him and my heart clenched. I threw my arms around his neck and held him as tightly as I could. His arms went around me, but they were gentle. I spoke into his chest. "I would never, ever, let you go through something like that alone."

"Katniss . . . ." His voice broke. I looked at him and for the first time I could remember I saw tears in his eyes. All the anger had left me. I wanted to take his hurt away, to heal him. I took his face in my hands and kissed his eyes one at a time, then I found that I was kissing his face, over and over again. I paused when I reached his lips. I realized that I was shaking. I touched my lips to his, trying to tell him that I would never leave him.

He put his hand behind my neck, his fingers reaching up under my braid, and deepened the kiss. I tilted my head and let my thoughts slip away. I couldn't help but smile when I noticed that this time he tasted like blackberries, too. His other hand slid under me and lifted me up so that I was sitting in his lap. One of my hands was in his hair, the other traced his scars through the thin cotton of his t-shirt.

"Katniss, wait," he whispered. He leaned his face against mine, our foreheads and noses touching. "I have to talk to you about this."

I closed my eyes and tried to focus. "Okay, but don't ask me not to be with you."

He leaned his head back against the tree. "There are people who are going to be hurt. Your mom, Rory, anyone who lost a child that day."

"What do you mean?" This whole thing seemed unreal to me, like another one of my nightmares.

"Think about it. A headline that says 'Mockingjay Stands by her Sister's Murderer.'" He turned his head away from me, his eyes still closed, as if he couldn't bear to look at me.

I felt a clutching in my chest. I had to remind myself to breathe. I leaned my head against his chest and stared out into the trees, seeing nothing. Thoughts flew through my mind too quickly for me to grab them. I took a deep breath and replayed his words in my head. Something had been strange there.

"Rory?" I asked. That was it. Why would Rory be especially hurt?

"Did you know that he had a thing for Prim?" At last he turned back a little and glanced at me.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I think I almost caught them kissing in our room in District 13."

"You didn't tell me!"

"You were in the hospital. It was right after . . . right after the rescue mission to the Capitol." I could tell he didn't want to say why I had been in the hospital, that it had been after Peeta tried to kill me. "By the time you were better, there was so much going on that I forgot all about it."

He let out a shuddering sigh. "Rory still doesn't know about the bombs, that I helped design them. No one in my family knows that. I don't know if Rory'll ever forgive me when he finds out."

I lay my head back against his chest. He had already paid such a high price for his error. When would it stop? It was my turn to fidget. I traced the lines on his arm up onto his neck. He was so tense that the tendons in his neck were easy to find. I was trying to piece together how I could love Gale despite what he had done with how others would see things if there was a trial.

"Maybe it doesn't have to be like that," I said.

He had tilted his head back against the tree so that I could reach his neck. Apparently it was my turn to make it difficult for him to think. I wasn't sure if he had even heard me, until he asked "What do you mean?"

"Well, part of the whole point of your commission is to help our country figure things out, figure out a way to go forward that is better than the old way."

"I know. But there may be some casualties along the way. There were things that were done that can't go unpunished." There was so much pain in his voice. I kept slowly moving my finger down his neck and down his arm to his hand. I wanted to give him something soothing to focus on, let him know I was on his side.

"It's kind of like the difference between people who wanted to have new Games, to punish the Capitol even more and people who wanted to have a country where the Districts and the Capitol didn't hate each other anymore."

"You mean like people who were willing to assassinate a president to stop any more Games?" he asked. For the first time since we started this conversation I saw a sparkle in his eye.

"Exactly. Maybe if I can show that I know about what you did, but you are sorry and I forgive you, maybe that can be a way to show people that we can forgive each other, that our country doesn't have to be about hating each other anymore."

"Rory won't see it that way," he said.

"I bet my mom will. You should talk to Rory. He'll probably hate you for a while, but you got me to come around, so anything is possible." I took my finger and began to trace the lines on his face, so that he closed his eyes and just felt my touch. I wished I had some artistic talent and could draw him, but this was the closest I could come.

"Don't despair. We've gotten through worse things than this. We'll get through this too, somehow," I whispered just before I kissed him again. He had seemed as though he was almost asleep, but as soon as my lips touched his I knew that he was very much awake. His tongue met mine. It stroked through my mouth, as though he was trying to memorize me. Then he shifted. His lips pulled away and kissed the scar on the side of my face. He began to draw a line of small kisses down my cheek, beneath my ear, and then down my neck. I felt a thrill that began at my neck and reached all the way down to my toes. I made some sort of a noise in the back of my throat.

He laughed and came back up to press his nose against mine. "I love it when you do that," he said. He kissed my nose, then said "What would I do without you? I don't deserve you."

That annoyed me. "Don't say that. Of course, you do."

"No, actually I have this theory. I don't think anyone can really deserve another person. A person is a gift that you can't deserve, but you just have to accept and do the best you can for them."

"When did you get so deep?" I asked with a smile.

"I always was. You just didn't ask the right questions." He was teasing me.

"So you are saying that I don't deserve you either." I wanted to see how serious he was about this.

"Exactly. You can't. It's not because there's anything wrong with you. It's because it can't be done. Oh, but that reminds me there is something that you do deserve." Gale reached into his bag and pulled out something wrapped in white tissue and tied with a red ribbon.

"Oops," I said. "I didn't know we were doing gifts."

"It's just something I thought would come in handy when I was gone."

I unwrapped it and saw a beautiful hunting knife in a sculpted leather sheath. I pulled it out and examined it. It had a razor edge and a handle inlaid with mother-of-pearl. I slipped it back into the holster. "It's beautiful." I laughed. "Only you would get a girl a hunting knife."

"Does that mean you don't already have a pile of these that your other boyfriends have given you?"

"No, I lost my old knife and I haven't had one at all here. That's why I keep having to borrow yours."

"I know. That's why I wanted to get you one. But still, be careful when you are hunting by yourself. Maybe we should spend the rest of the afternoon hunting down any wild boars that are still lurking around."

"No way. Then I would have to go through that whole gutting thing again. That was unbelievable." I shuddered just remembering how exhausting that had been.

"I guess the boars are safe for now, then."

"We really should head back if you want to have time for a swim."

"Sure." Gale looked at me with a sly grin on his face. "Just as long as you will help me put my sunblock on."

"We might not have time for a swim after all."

* * *

When we got back to the beach I ran up to the house to get into my borrowed swimsuit and to grab the sunblock. Would sunblock always make me blush almost as much as blackberries?

The clock in the kitchen said that it was already 3:15. Gale still had to get back to the boys' house and gather his stuff. Plus we should grab some dinner. But that still left time for a swim. Outside Jonah and Davy were just about to put the boar onto the spit. Davy was holding the beast and Jonah was trying to force the spit in, but it was obviously hard to do. Gale was down at the beach, letting the surf lap his feet. When he looked up to the house at me I signaled with my arm for him to come up. I walked down to meet him halfway.

"They seem to be having a lot of trouble with Mr. Ugly. Do you have a minute to help them get him on the spit?"

"Sure. Then I can earn my swim." Would we ever get over the Seam way of thinking that everything had to be earned?

Annie and I sat on the stairs, Annie holding a squirming Finnie. He wanted to go see what they were doing with the boar, but we didn't think he would be much help. Annie managed to distract him with some toys on the porch, while the two of us made sure to block any escape route down the stairs.

Gale and Jonah were now holding the boar which seemed hard to do since it didn't really come with handles. Davy was making slow progress getting the spit in. He was laughing about something, but Gale was scowling. He really didn't like Davy much. Funny how the two brothers could be so different.

"Is Finnie due for a nap?" I asked Annie.

"Almost," she said. "But he's not acting very tired."

"You should bring him down for a swim."

"You don't mind? I thought you two would want to be alone."

"No. It's a big ocean. We'll share." I didn't think Gale would mind. And Davy and Jonah looked like they were going to seriously need a swim, too.

Annie caught her breath. "Katniss, look." She pointed to Finnie. He had been standing, holding onto the porch railing. He was studying the boys and the boar intently. He didn't even seem to be aware that he had let go of the railing and was now taking slow steps down the porch to get a better look. One step, two, three, four, five . . . .

"Hey guys," Annie called in a soft voice, "Look at Finnie." All three boys turned and saw Finnie walking toward them, a surprised smile on his face. He now seemed to have realized what he was doing.

"Go Finnie," said Jonah. Finnie started to clap his own hands, but the extra movement was too much and he fell back, with a thud that was padded by his diaper.

Annie jumped up and grabbed him and swung him in the air. "Yeah, Finnie!" she said kissing him.

"I think he earned a swim, don't you?" I said.

Once Mr. Ugly was on the spit we headed down to the beach. Davy and Jonah said that they would join us after they got the engine Jonah had rigged up to turn the spit going. The coals were already hot.

I made a deal with Gale. We would each do our own sunblock as much as we could, then help each other with our backs. "On one condition," Gale said with a mischievous twinkle as he spread lotion on his arms. "Someday I want a replay of the other day and you have to do all of my sunblock. I'd be happy to do the same for you."

I could tell I was blushing, but I just said "When did you become such a flirt?"

"The army offered a class on it," he said.

"Since there aren't any girls on your squad I find that troubling."

"Wouldn't it be more troubling if there were some girls?"

I smeared a huge glob of block onto his nose. "Definitely." Then I offered him the bottle. "Ready to do my back?"

We splashed around in the shallows for a while, then swam out to the sand bar.

"I'm seriously going to miss the ocean," Gale said as he leaned back to absorb the warm sun.

"It's amazing to be able to take a swim anytime you want."

"Hey, sorry for being such a sulk today. It's just that the last few days have been like this fantastic bubble. As soon as I talked to Captain Brighton all the rest of life seemed to come crashing back in on me. I hadn't even thought about the . . . trials or the Nut or any of that for days. Now, it's all back."

"You don't like the Nut?"

"No. I like my squad. I like being busy and feeling like we are doing something useful. But the Nut is an old mine. The deeper we go the more it feels like being back in the mines. And it messes with my head. I can't stop thinking about how many people died, how it is all my fault. I guess it is good to help clean up the mess, but I can't wait until it's done."

"Is your new mission, the mysterious secret one, going to be in the Nut?" I didn't remember what exactly he had said about it.

"It must be, otherwise why would they want my squad?"

* * *

**Thanks for beta'ing IrishLuck19! One whole chapter with no tense glitches.**

**Thanks for reading to everyone and thanks for reading and reviewing to all you wonderful reviewers. BTW - my Review Reply isn't working. Anyone else having trouble with theirs or is it just me?**

**Analyn Ruse, Wisdomgoddess26, Solaryllis, EchoDeltaNine, Katieg343, Harryfan626, RipredtheGnawer, Laughingismyhobbie, DaydreamingVikingGirl, AlwaysHasAPlan, allie, MountainAir**


	20. Whispers

**Whispers**

I leaned back into the sandbar, looked up and tried to absorb all the sunshine I could, to bring it with me into the Pit. There was no point in trying to guess what mission I was heading back to; I'd know soon enough. Finnie shrieked gleefully in the distance and I could almost forget that I had to leave in just a couple of hours.

Katniss swam up and sat next to me, resting against my arm. My breath hitched. As usual, she was oblivious. But I could smell her skin even under the sun block and salt water. Her light blue swimsuit had some kind of silver sparkle to it and, now that it was wet, it clung to her body. She had graceful curves that hadn't been there when we first met. Even though our chaperones were many yards away, I wished they would tire of the beach and go back into the house. Although obeying her 'all hands on deck' rule would be a challenge. So instead, I took a slow breath, stretched my arms above my head and broke the skin to skin contact that was so very distracting. In a few hours I would be longing to touch her again.

"You okay?" she asked. Clueless.

"Yeah, just thinking too many things."

"Good things or bad things?"

"Both. The weird thing is that a week ago I thought I'd be lucky if you would even speak to me. I should be totally happy about where things are, about you, about everything. But instead I keep thinking that it isn't enough. I don't want this trip to end; I don't want to leave."

She took a finger and began to trace a circle around my kneecap. My knee had never been so happy. Any other girl would be doing that on purpose; Katniss was just doodling.

"When we were kids we never dreamed that we could get out of District 12, that we could be sitting here in the ocean, but we are." She seemed to be thinking out loud. "I never thought I'd survive the first Games. Then the Quarter Quell happened and I didn't even plan to survive. But I did. I was messed up, but I was alive. I didn't mean to survive when I shot Coin either. But I did. By then I was a total wreck, but I was still alive. I never thought that I would see you again. But here you are. This spring . . ." - like we didn't both know what had happened this spring - ". . . I didn't think I could ever be happy again. But I am. You have made me so happy. I didn't think any of this could ever happen. So don't think about what we don't have. Just look at every day, every hour, as a gift, one we didn't think we would get, but we did. And just enjoy the gift."

"When did you get so deep?" I had to smile; I was asking her the same thing she had asked me. But she had changed. The old Katniss was too focused on survival to have a theory of how to be happy.

She let out a nervous laugh and began to dig a hole in the sand. She seemed embarrassed by my question. She was even blushing. Then something clicked and it all made sense.

"Let me guess. That's something Peeta told you."

"Yeah, it is."

"Hey, I want you to know something. Remember how you don't want to forget Prim? Peeta doesn't deserve to be forgotten either. Don't feel like you can't mention him in front of me. I don't mind. He was part of your life. I'm okay with that."

"Are you sure?" Despite her words, her eyes were grateful. "I think it'll take me a while before that doesn't feel weird."

"You know what I think?" I asked, keeping my voice low so she wouldn't notice that I was scooping up some water. "I think we have been way too serious today." I caught her by surprise with a great splash.

She spluttered and yelled "I'll get you for that, Hawthorne," but I was already fleeing toward shore. Our water fight continued in the shallow water. Davy and Jonah enthusiastically joined in, although Annie grabbed Finnie, and swept him off for a nap. He looked disappointed.

Before long I realized that I needed to get packed and cleaned up in time to enjoy one last dinner at Annie's. And then time started playing malicious tricks on me. I wanted to savor each moment, but instead they vanished. I'd look at the clock and another half hour was gone. We just had a simple dinner of clam chowder and fresh bread, but I knew it would be a long time before I could enjoy another bowl of Annie's soup.

The dark clouds were moving in and the sky grew black long before sunset. I helped Jonah and Davy set up a couple of tarps as a tent to keep any rain off of Mr. Ugly. The spit that we had rigged up was working well. I was glad I was leaving before the aroma of roasting pork grew too irresistible.

Katniss and I took a last walk on the beach, hand in hand.

"I better not come into town with you," she said with a sigh. "If you're under orders to keep mum about being with me, it wouldn't work for us to make the nightly news."

"That's one reason I would like to go back to 12. I feel like I could be just a normal person there. Everyone there knows us too well to be impressed."

"I don't know. I know you pretty well and I'm impressed." She had a glint in her eye.

I stopped walking and put my hands on her waist. "Where did my Catnip learn to flirt?" I liked this new more relaxed side of Katniss. She answered with a kiss.

Just a few more minutes left.

"I'll call you when I get back to base, but I won't be able to say much. The phone is out in the hall, not very private."

She kept both arms around me while we walked up to the house and I noticed that she was scowling. "What's wrong?"

"You have to ask?"

I felt the leaden weight of good-bye in her voice.

"It's just a few weeks." I was reminding myself as much as Katniss. I had gone more than a year without seeing her. We could handle a few weeks.

Time sucker punched me again and I was throwing my bag into the truck cab with Jonah. Apparently, the brothers were separable. Maybe I bugged Davy as much as he bugged me. I gave Katniss one last kiss, and climbed into the cab.

"Gale! Wait." I pushed the door back open and saw a panicked look on her face.

I said "Just a minute," and got out of the cab, all too aware that I didn't have much time to spare. But the look on Katniss's face was so unlike her, at least unlike the tough warrior side of her. A wind was picking up and her hair flew into her face. I pushed some of the strands back behind her ear, then took her hands in mine. "What? Are you okay?"

"I have to tell you something." She paused, taking deep breaths to steady herself. "You need to know." She was staring at the ground, and it seemed to take great effort for her to raise her eyes to my face. In a voice so faint that it almost disappeared into the distant waves she said "I . . . I love you."

I had planned for years how I would echo what she had said to me and the words came quickly, even though my mind was flying - "I know." She gave me a little smile and I leaned down to kiss her again, but I couldn't leave it there. Those words, long waiting, had been a lie. I pulled away and looked at her, more seriously now. "No, I didn't know," was all I could manage, but she understood. I wanted to slip out of time with her again, but its claws were in me and I couldn't. All I could do was hold her close for a moment and whisper into her ear "I love you. Still."

I felt physical pain as I let her go and moved back into the truck, a crushing ache like the bullet that had smashed my ribs within my chest. I slumped against the door and Jonah, without speaking, pulled the truck away. Part of me was relieved that she wasn't coming. If she was there I might lose my nerve and not get on that damned train. I refused to look back, instead closing my eyes and locking the feel of her lips on mine, the sweet whisper of her words, into memory.

As I stared out of the train window I replayed my days in District 4 in my head. It was impossible that I'd only arrived on Saturday. Seventy-two hours had completely changed my life.

Rain was coming down outside. I vaguely hoped that it would stop before it could ruin the roast boar party. I leaned my seat back and let the swaying of the train, the raindrops jogging diagonally across the window, the memories of swimming in the ocean, I let it all lure me into sleep.

* * *

The rising sun through the window woke me. The land had changed completely. There were pine trees and rugged mountains. I was almost back to District 2.

Morning felt wrong without a run. I was going to miss the shore. The next best thing was breakfast. In the dining car I pulled out the manual I had on the Nut to read while I ate. It was time to get my head back into my job. No matter what Katniss said, I knew we were going back underground. Since I had no idea what we would be doing, it couldn't hurt to review the maps.

Once I was back on base I left my stuff in my room. My room was locked; I checked the doorknob and it showed no signs of forced entry. How had Johanna gotten in? The door to the barracks was open. Doc was the only one there, sitting at the one desk they all shared.

"Hey, you're back," he said with a questioning look when I greeted him.

I shook my head to let him know I wasn't going to discuss why. "Where is everyone?"

"At breakfast. Then we're supposed to head over to Supply for a uniform verification."

"I've gotta go check in with Brighton. I'll catch up with you guys later."

Captain Brighton's secretary sent me right in. As usual, he was poring through piles of paper.

"Sergeant Hawthorne," he said, looking up. "Back early from your leave?"

I knew that he didn't want anyone to know that he had called me. Strange that the game began even here in his own office. Who did he think was listening?

"Yes, sir."

"That's a shame. But you are just in time for 425's new mission. Your clearances are all in order, aren't they?"

"Yes, sir." The whole squad had needed Level 3 Security Clearance to be able to work in the Nut. As Squad Leader I had filled out a ream of extra paperwork to get through to Level 2 Clearance.

"Good. This is your mission report." He handed me a packet of papers in a sealed envelope. "Not for Distribution" was stamped on the front. This was obviously a higher security mission than we usually had.

"Go ahead. Take a look at it, then I'll answer questions."

The first thing I noticed was the title page reading: "Proposed Itinerary for President Paylor's Tour of District 2 Former Command Headquarters with Squad 425." So that explained the drama.

The second thing I saw was a loose piece of paper on top of the bound packet. It was a note, handwritten in red highlighter:

"_Ask some minor questions then request time for a run this morning. I will meet you one mile from the trailhead on the running trail east of the Nut entrance on Red Rock Mountain at 1000. Bring this note with you." _

I glanced up at Captain Brighton with raised eyebrows. His eyes met mine for a second, then he went back to his papers. I skimmed through the rest of the packet. Other than our high-powered guest the mission did not seem very complicated. She would bring several members of her staff. We would be clearing some residential units, mainly as a demonstration project. We would also briefly show her some of the already cleared areas. They would be spending one night underground with us, probably to prove to the country that she was no delicate flower. I remembered first meeting her at the hospital in District 8. She was tough enough. She'd probably handle staying underground better than I did.

"Doc said the Squad was going for a uniform verification. Any reason to believe that there were uniform problems in my squad?"

"You may have noted that President Paylor's team includes a media liaison officer. They want to make sure that any media appearances are well presented." I must have made a face since he laughed and went on. "Don't worry. They are just talking about a press conference featuring Paylor at the end of the mission. Any coverage of your squad will be incidental. Are all of your uniforms in order?"

"Yes sir. I left them at the cleaners. When do I meet up with the squad then?"

"They should be done with Supply in time for lunch at 1230."

"Do you mind if I take this material back to quarters to review it there?" I figured I was doing pretty well coming up with innocuous questions.

"No problem. Make sure that all of your personal contact information is up to date. You are dismissed."

"One more thing, sir. I missed the squad run this morning. Can I leave base for a run before lunch?"

"As long as you can review your materials and make it back in time for lunch with your squad, that should be fine." He hardly raised his eyes from the paperwork on his desk the whole conversation. I wondered if he was concerned about video surveillance. Otherwise, why would he be so concerned about appearances in his own office? I was going to have a lot of questions when we met.

There wasn't much of substance in the packet and I really did want a run so I left as quickly as I could and figured that I could meet up with the captain on my way back down the trail. It was one of my favorite mountain paths.

I didn't expect to feel as lousy as I did. I wondered if I was coming down with something. I didn't even take a very long run, but I was completely winded, and as I came back down the trail I was coming down with a headache and starting to feel nauseous. Then I tripped over a root and landed sprawled out on the path. When I got about a mile up from the trailhead I sat down on a giant rock and started picking pieces of gravel out of my bloody palms. I had brought the note he told me to bring, but I had no other paper or materials so I would have to remember everything he told me. The growing headache was not going to help.

Typically, Captain Brighton arrived precisely on time. He was out of uniform and dressed as though he was going for a run himself. He sat down next to me and offered me his water bottle.

"You alright?" he asked.

"No. Actually, I feel terrible." I drank some of the water, and used more to wash off my hands.

"Altitude sickness."

"What?" I vaguely remembered hearing something about that, but I'd never had a problem with it before.

"You've been at sea level. I should have warned you not to actually try a run today. You need a day or two to re-acclimate to 6000 feet. Drink a lot of water. That'll help."

"Great. I imagine you have more to talk to me about than the altitude," I said, looking for a distraction.

"Yes. First of all, do you have that note with you?"

I handed it to him. He immediately pulled out a cigarette lighter and burned it, dropping the ashes behind the rock.

"Okay. I'll explain all I can. I imagine that in District 12 you experienced a bit of surveillance." I nodded. "District 2 is crawling with it: microphones, cameras, spies. It isn't usually a concern for me, but I am finding your squad's upcoming mission to be troubling in several ways. First of all, it has been set up very quickly, which is completely counter to my previous experience with President Paylor."

He paused as a couple of runners went by on the path. "We should probably keep moving. Your headache will just get worse if we head back up the mountain."

"If you're worried about surveillance, it is probably clearer off the path. There's some running water back this way." I often took my squad off the path. I figured a bunch of tough army guys should be able to handle jumping over some fallen logs. I didn't explain that water was a good way to block sound. He'd know that.

Captain Brighton continued as he followed me into the woods: "I was first approached by Paylor's office about this mission several months ago. Preliminary arrangements all went according to the usual schedule, then suddenly everything was finalized with just a couple days' notice. I have tried to contact the President directly to discuss the mission, the timeline, but I have been unable to get through to her, past her staff. I know that is typically how high officials conduct business, but Paylor has always been a detail person. In the past, she has frustrated her staff by wanting to deal with the minutiae herself and she has always returned my phone calls. Maybe her staff has finally brought her around to the more efficient way of doing things but it is unusual for her."

"All of that sounds pretty innocuous." I hoped he didn't think I was getting out of line, but I needed to be blunt if I was going to get a clear picture of what was going on.

"It is. There's no clear signal that something's wrong. If there was I'd cancel the mission. There are just several little things that bother me. I don't know what to make of them, but I wanted to give you the full picture.

"I know President Paylor fairly well. During the war she was the one to whom I surrendered when I could no longer work for the Capitol. Changing sides during a war when you are a district commander is a tricky business. If I had approached the rebel commander in 2 I would probably have been shot on sight. Paylor seemed even-headed so she was the one I approached."

"How'd you go about that?" I had never thought about exactly how he switched sides.

"It's a long story which I won't bore you with right now. The point is that I am very familiar with Paylor's way of doing things and there has been a change.

"The next issue involves Internal Investigations – I.I." I had been splashing the cool water from the creek onto my face, trying to get my headache to ease up a bit. I looked up at him. If I.I. was involved there was something else going on.

"As you may know, I.I. reports directly to the President. They usually investigate routine troop misbehavior: theft of army property, officers accepting bribes, things that can happen in any organization. However, since the war they have also looked into possible security threats, those who harbor hidden loyalties, to the former regime, to anyone else."

"Are there a lot of those?" Another thing I'd never thought about. No, I had wondered about Colonel Onyx, how they could trust him.

"I'm sure you are aware that there have been attempts on President Paylor's life. Now that you have read some ancient history, you may have noticed how often governments are brought down by someone on the inside, someone who wants to undermine an existing regime. There are always those who don't like a new way of doing business, who find themselves with less power than they had before, and who decide to take matters into their own hands. Of course, I would be the first to point out that some who changed sides during the war were sincere, but it can be hard to spot those who aren't. Under Snow's government anyone whose loyalty was in doubt would just be disposed of. Paylor doesn't operate that way.

"Again, if I knew of anyone who was a threat I'd deal with them. All I know is that I.I. has taken a great interest in this base. As Base Commander, I am notified of their presence, but not of the precise nature of their investigation. Of course, there could also be undercover I.I. agents. Then, presumably, even I wouldn't be notified. The thing is, not only has there been significant I.I. operation on the base, but your squad in particular appears to have been extensively investigated."

That news was almost enough to make me forget my headache. "Could they have been screening us to prepare for the President's visit?" I asked.

"You were all already screened when you got your security clearances. I.I. usually does not handle bulk screening, but investigates specific possible threats."

"So somebody thinks there's a traitor on my squad."

"I don't have any confirmation of this, but something of that sort seems to be going on, which makes it very strange that your squad was specifically requested for this mission. Frankly, I'd recommended a different squad. There does not appear to be any need for specialized explosives expertise on this mission."

I tried to absorb everything he had told me. It seemed that the war would never really end. "What exactly do you want me to do with this information?"

"I wanted you back here because I trust your instincts. So far all my problems with this mission come down to a bad gut feeling. That plus the importance to our country of protecting our first legitimately elected leader. If she was suddenly taken out the chances of an unelected government taking over are too high and I certainly don't want to see us go back to the old way of running things. Unfortunately, I can't give you anything more specific to go on."

"What do you think about my squad? Is there anyone you suspect?"

"Again, nothing specific. In general, anyone who fought for the Capitol and switched sides, like Redstone, is a possibility. Even if they weren't Peacekeepers those from the Capitol and Districts 1 and 2 are more likely, so that includes Mercurius and Shine. Anyone who had an important position under the old regimes, either Snow or Coin, may resent their loss of status. And security clearances also look for those who are blackmailable, who have secrets, debts, addictions, or even just vulnerable family members. Is Groves' new baby still in the hospital?"

"I think they sent him home, but they're worried about his heart. It's not quite right. The family members thing though, that one would cover anyone."

"Yes, although families are safer in some districts than others."

"Any chance I can get a look at their security clearance applications?"

He sat silently for a few minutes. Then nodded. "Come by my office for some new historical reading material. I'll leave them in there."

"Have you told anyone else about your suspicions?" I asked. I was trying to figure out where to start, how to handle all of this.

"No, although Beetee came to me with his concerns about the mission. He'd been asked to review the security of the Nut and felt like the mission was being rushed before he could finish a thorough report." I hadn't even realized that Brighton knew Beetee, although as Base Commander I supposed he'd know everyone on the base to some extent.

"I need to get back," he said as he stood up and began to walk back to the path. "By the way, how was your trip? Really?"

"Great. Better than I ever expected." I thought about giving him more detail, then decided not to give him the extra guilt trip.

"Good. Then you can make good use of your extra week of leave."

Captain Brighton told me to wait a few minutes and he took off jogging back to the base. After a while I started the walk back. I was glad to have some time to think. The idea that I couldn't trust everyone in my squad was disconcerting. Over the past months we had all come to work together well and I had been often in situations where I trusted them with my life. I'd mainly focused on making sure that each soldier was competent. I'd never considered that any of them might be holding a secret loyalty to the old Capitol regime or to some new set of usurpers.

I needed to go over their files, check each one thoroughly. Right now the only person I knew I could trust completely was Katniss and she was a thousand miles from here.

I wished I'd asked more questions about how and when our squad had been investigated. Were they just looking through our files? Or was there someone we had been dealing with on base who was secretly checking us out? Maybe examining surveillance tapes on us? The more I thought about it the creepier it got, although I would have to admit that when Mercurius and Chervil got going our tapes would probably be more entertaining than most.

**Thanks to IrishLuck19 for brilliant betaing.**

**Thanks so much for reading and reviewing: Katieg343, Solaryllis, LawAndOrderSVUAlways, Analyn Ruse, Cattastrophies, Laughingismyhobbie, Deathblossom Icicle, Allie () (one chapter a week – no matter how much you pester me), GaleKatniss, Bookluva98**


	21. Waiting

AN – Thanks to HalfHope for the name Phoenix for Katniss's dad. Read her "Sing for Me" for the whole story of his romance with Ruth (Mrs. Everdeen).

**Waiting**

I knew I'd be sad when Gale left, but I didn't expect the terror. It grabbed me from out of nowhere. One minute we were walking along the beach - I was even flirting - and he pulled me into a kiss. I was thinking of nothing but the warmth of his lips, the strength of his hands on my waist, when a voice in the back of my mind said _'You'd better enjoy this kiss. You may never see him again.'_

My heart went cold. I broke away with a gasp and buried my face in his chest. I couldn't let him read the fear in my lips. As we walked back up to the house I kept both arms wrapped around him, as though I could hold him tightly enough to keep him safe. My heart was pounding, but it wasn't the happy throb he usually caused. It was painful, stabbing, screaming at me not to let him go.

One good thing my fear did. It pushed me to finally tell him that I loved him. I knew that if I didn't do it then it'd be at least several weeks before I could, since words like that weren't going out over the phone. The voice in my head whispered that if I was never going to see him again he deserved to know.

I knew he had to go. And if I told him that it wasn't safe, something was going to happen, he would remind me that he was in the army, of course it wasn't safe, and I would just make it harder for him to do what he had to do.

So I gave Gale one final kiss and he went.

As the truck pulled away down the road I changed my mind. A gut warning this strong shouldn't be ignored. I couldn't lose him. I ran after them, calling them to stop, but they were already too far away. They didn't hear me.

I went back to Annie's and curled up on her front steps, hating the filthy dirt road, the road that had taken him away from me. I wondered if Annie had felt this. The last time she kissed Finnick, the last time she said 'good-bye,' did her heart cry out and warn her? I couldn't think of any decent way to ask her. And I wasn't sure I wanted to hear the answer.

I hardly noticed when raindrops began to join my tears, but Annie came out to check on me.

"Come on in before you get soaked," she said. She put an arm around me as I came through the door. "The best thing you can do is keep busy. Why don't you put Finnie to bed?"

Finnie must have been exhausted from his first day of walking. He fell asleep in my arms as soon as I started his story. I put the book down and rocked with him. I wondered if he'd ever have to join the army, to leave his loved ones and go off to fight, to risk his life. Maybe the world he grew up in would be different. No, it already was different. He sure wasn't going hungry. As I set him down in his crib I noticed that one of his chubby fists was clutching something. I carefully pried open his fingers and frowned.

It was a dandelion, crushed almost beyond recognition.

My stomach clenched and I grabbed the side of the crib to steady myself. It didn't mean anything. It couldn't mean anything.

I went downstairs and slipped into machine mode as I helped Annie and Susan thoroughly clean the kitchen. All of the cooking they'd done had used every bowl, every utensil, every surface of the room. The two of them made small talk, which I didn't join, but I listened to every word, afraid to let my mind wander. As soon as the kitchen was clean all three of us headed for bed. I wasn't tired as much as empty.

* * *

_The sheets stacked behind me smelled of industrial detergent, the cement floor of a dank mop. I clutched my knees to my chest and tried to disappear within the darkness. I could hear his hoarse screams or, worse, the silence that followed them. Even with my eyes closed I saw the gray walls, dark red splatters and thin dripping lines flowing down from them. There was nothing I could do. He didn't know I was alive; he couldn't hear me; I couldn't reach him. I wished it would all end, then choked at the thought that it might end, that he might end._

_I heard the screams again, wrenching, no thought behind them, only reflexive reaction to pain. But this time they were close, just outside the closet door. I jumped to my feet and threw out my hands in the darkness to open the door, to go to him, to help him somehow. But my hands found no door. I groped in the darkness, but I was completely surrounded by shelves, by sheets, by towels – no doorknob, no door, no way out. I tried to call out "I'm coming!" but I had no voice. _

_He screamed again and all I could do was listen. _

* * *

Where was he? What were they doing to him? Who did they have? I sat up and tried again to find a door.

The salty scent of the air brought me back. I was in District 4, at Annie's. The sea swished gently outside. Peeta had been rescued, and wherever he was now, nothing could hurt him anymore. He was safe.

But Gale wasn't. My heart kept pounding. I checked the wooden table clock on my bed stand – 4:32. I lay back onto my soft pillow and pulled the deep blue blanket up over me. I gave a sigh and knew that I wouldn't be able to sleep anymore. My body was wide awake, my limbs restless. I gave up and got out of bed. I decided that an early morning walk on the beach would calm my nerves.

The sand had circled pockmarks from last night's rain. The lapping waves were cool on my bare feet. I thought about climbing up onto the rock, but didn't want to be up there alone. The sand was too damp for sitting, so I paced about the cove instead.

_I am Katniss Everdeen Mellark. I am nineteen years old. Peeta is dead. I am a widow. I am in love with Gale. I am staying with Annie, in District 4. We killed a boar. We won the war. President Snow is dead. So is President Coin. I am no longer a tribute, no longer a victor, no longer the Mockingjay. I am just a girl._

In the District 13 hospital I had sworn off of hiding in closets forever. I reminded myself that dreams didn't count. I didn't need to hide any more. Peeta would never again be held, be tortured, in the Capitol. And, for all my fears, Gale wasn't a prisoner in the Capitol either. He was a soldier, but he knew what he was doing. He wasn't alone; he had a whole squad of trained soldiers there to cover his back. He might not like what he was doing, but it was what he had chosen, and soon, less than a month, he'd be done. I ran through the names he'd told me – the other guys in his squad: Marik, Doc, Mercurius, Asher, Shine, Redstone, Chervil, the married one, . . . I was missing someone else, but only one. Not bad considering I had never met any of them, just heard about them from Gale.

The sky was fading, the pale gray approaching. I didn't want to watch the sun come up, not without him. I went back into the house and started the coffee pot. This was going to be a busy day.

Soon Susan, Annie and Finnie were down. I loaned Finnie my two pointer fingers and we walked circles through kitchen, the hall, the living room and back to the kitchen, while Annie made eggs, bacon and toast. My stomach growled and I realized it had been a long time since last night's early dinner. I glanced at the black and white kitchen clock. Gale would still be on the train, two hours from District 2. I hoped he was still asleep.

The sun rose on a clear sky. The rain had disappeared and part of me felt silly for my panic the night before. In the sunlight the world didn't seem as menacing.

After breakfast Susan and I went out to the garden to harvest fresh vegetables for the salad. Then we cleaned them, chopped them and threw them into an enormous bowl. We made a vat of lemonade. We debated whether to make blackberry pie or cobbler, or just to eat them raw with fresh whipped cream, then decided on all three. I went into the forest to clear the snares and gather more blackberries, my stomach clenching at the emptiness of the woods. I hurried back to the house.

Davy and Jonah moved the kitchen table out onto the back porch and we filled it with plates, napkins and utensils, then as time for the party approached, with more food than our family had eaten in 6 months back in the Seam. And that wasn't even counting Mr. Ugly – who was now filling the house and yard with the most delectable smell. He would have his own table, all to himself.

We set up borrowed tables and chairs in the house and on the porch, but the ground outside was too sandy for them. People would just have to pull up a rock or a blanket and make themselves comfortable.

Mom arrived early. "Where's Gale?" she asked. I hadn't talked to her since the phone call had come yesterday. In fact, I hadn't filled her in for days. I quickly explained how he'd been called back to District 2, trying to make my voice sound light, to ignore the fear still lurking in my chest.

"I take it you two have reconciled," she said.

"How did you know?"

She took my right hand in her hand. "This ring has done a bit of journeying." I felt a blush creep up my cheeks.

She was right. I had to laugh at how quickly she had seen what Gale had never noticed. The night after he had kissed me for the first time, well, the first time this time, I'd moved my wedding ring from my left hand to my right. It wasn't exactly an official wedding ring since Peeta and I had never had an official wedding, but while we were in the hospital in District 13 Peeta had gotten my pearl set into a beautiful ring and given it to me. It was bittersweet since we both knew by then that there would be no wedding.

I sighed. It was bittersweet on my right hand now, too. It was all silly. A week ago I hadn't even been speaking to Gale. How could my world feel so empty without him?

"I have a lot to tell you," I said to my mom. Annie went up to get dressed and while we made salad dressing and heaped baskets with fresh bread, I filled Mom in on the amazing events of the past few days.

"This looks great, but how about if we go across the street and grab some wildflowers to be the finishing touch?" I asked my mom.

As we walked I took her hand and asked her what I hadn't even realized I wanted to know: "Do you think I'm awful?"

She knew exactly what I meant. "Of course not, honey. I'm just so thankful that I can see you smile again. And, you know, it's what Peeta wanted you to do. He wanted to know that you'd be happy again."

"Peeta was too nice," I said. A vision of Prim and Peeta together somewhere, with so many others who were gone, filled my heart. "Mom, do you think that they are together? Prim, Peeta, . . . Dad?"

"Thinking that Prim is with Phoenix now is the only thing that has gotten me through," she answered. "Come on. We'd better get these flowers into vases. People are starting to arrive."

There were so many guests I started to wonder if we would have enough boar. All night long I was introduced to people, friends of Annie, Susan, Davy, Jonah and my mom. I felt like I had met all of District 4. A few I'd met before, but most were strangers to me. A lot of them referred to me as "the Mockingjay" when we were first introduced, but then we went on to talk of the great boar hunt, how the pit was set up, even the gruesome cleaning of the beast. Of course, I left some details of our hunting expedition out, but I made sure that Gale got full credit for his part in killing and grilling the beast. He had to miss the party but I hoped he could feel the extravagant praise heaped on him all the way in District 2.

I even overheard Davy praising Gale. That surprised me. I knew the two of them didn't get along very well. Davy and Jonah were talking with some of their friends and I heard Davy say "That's what Hawthorne said he did. Amazing."

Davy looked at me and he knew that I had overheard that. "What did he do?" I asked.

"Someone tried to give your cousin a hard time down by the Docks. He didn't let them get away with it." I hated how he kept up with the cousin bit even though he knew we weren't cousins, but Annie called to me to come say 'hello' to the Spicers. It wasn't worth the trouble to correct Davy yet again.

After nearly everyone had arrived, Davy and Jonah took Mr. Ugly out of the pit. Of course, Annie hadn't had a platter big enough to put him on. Instead they found a small boat – a child's boat I guess. We'd cleaned it out thoroughly and covered it with a tarp. It made a perfect, and rather dramatic, way to transport Mr. Ugly to the table.

The real star of the night was little Finnie. He outshone even Mr. Ugly. He was thoroughly thrilled with his own new walking ability and toddled about, grinning madly. When he landed with a plonk on his bottom he lost his smile only momentarily, got a look of intense concentration as he found his feet again, and then he was off. We all took turns following him about, ready to help if he got into trouble, but he seemed to find our efforts to watch over him annoying.

Annie glowed. She was complimented all around on her wonderful cooking, but it was her pride in Finnie that made her eyes sparkle. Although as the sky grew dark I noticed a wistful look on her face. She caught my eye and I knew she was thinking of Finnick.

The party was nice, but by the end of the evening my face ached. I hadn't smiled much for months and the effort of keeping up a charming façade had gotten to me. These people were a lot nicer and more genuine than those I had had to schmooze with on the Victory Tour, but I was also way out of practice.

I dropped onto a blanket on the sand next to my mother.

"I'm sorry I missed Gale," my mom said.

"We never expected that he'd have to leave so suddenly."

"When did you say he would be done?"

"His enlistment is up at the end of September. But he was given an extra week of leave to make up for the abrupt end to this one. So if he can take that leave at the end of the month he will be done one week before the end of September."

"Is he coming back here, then?"

"I'm not sure. I know he wants to visit District 12. I may take the train out and meet him there."

"Are you thinking about going back to 12? To live?"

I hesitated. District 4 was a lovely escape, but District 12 was real life. "I'm thinking about it. I don't know. It will be strange to go back . . . without Peeta. And I need to find something to do with my life. I can't hunt squirrels forever."

"What about Gale? What is he planning to do after he gets out of the army?"

"I don't know. We haven't really talked about it."

"You two have plenty of time to figure out the details. You can always survive on squirrels for a while if you have to."

I actually loved that idea. To take some time just relaxing in the woods of District 12 again.

"The only problem will be how to get some good clam chowder in 12," I said. I was joking, but also thinking about how much I would miss District 4.

"You can always come visit." We sat together listening to the soft buzz of conversation from the few remaining guests. The former pig-roasting pit had become a bonfire and those of us remaining were gathered around it.

"Mom, can I ask you something hard? Something personal?"

"If you can't ask me, who could you ask?" she said with a wary smile.

I almost told her – no one – I don't ask personal questions. Instead, I took a steadying breath. "The day Dad died . . . did you have any feeling that something bad was going to happen?"

Mom shook her head sadly. "No. I don't know if that would have been better or worse, but it was just another morning. Nothing was different until . . . everything was different."

"I'm sorry, Mom. I didn't mean to bring all of that up again."

"It's okay. I'm sorry you've had to go through some of the same things I did, but I hope you'll know to appreciate happiness when you have it. It can all be gone so fast."

"I wish I remembered Dad more. I have images of him, but I can't remember little things – what did he eat for breakfast? Where did he put his work clothes when he took them off? Was he ever sick?"

"Slow down. I'll answer your questions. Then maybe you'll find the memories you are missing."

We'd never done that before. I'd never thought my mother could take it, but she didn't seem to mind. In fact, she got a dreamy look on her face that seemed almost happy.

It was a lovely night. I knew Gale would have enjoyed it. I was hoping he'd call. I was aching to hear his voice, but I told myself he must have been very busy when he got back. He had said he would call, but he never said when. Did he mean just his weekly Sunday night call? Could I wait until then?

* * *

_We were in the woods, our woods, stalking something. It was just ahead in the trees. I couldn't see what it was, but I could hear the snap of branches as it moved carelessly through the underbrush. I looked to see where Gale was. He had been off to my right, but now I couldn't see him. Then I realized I saw houses, the garish apartments of the Capitol. Whatever we were tracking had gone into the city. I began to worry about Gale. I couldn't see him anywhere. Where had he gone? _

_I began to run, peering into alleys, checking around corners. He had to be here somewhere. I felt alone, exposed. If I couldn't find him I couldn't watch his back; he couldn't watch mine. We weren't safe. I came around a corner and looked down a dark street, the bricks glistening red in the lamplight. Then I saw him. He had his bow at the ready and was still following our prey, but he was far down on the other side of the street. Then I saw a shadow emerge behind him. Someone, no – something, was stalking Gale. It was huge and its shoulders hunched over toward him, its claw-like hands reaching for him. He didn't hear it. It was getting closer and closer and I wasn't there to cover him. I began to run, to yell, to warn him, but he didn't turn. _

_It was going to reach him before I did._

* * *

I woke with a start, my breathing ragged. Another dream. Once again I tried to pull myself back to District 4, to Annie's, to safety. But it wasn't my safety I was worried about. I couldn't shake the feeling that I should be with Gale, watching his back. I was his hunting partner. No one knew how he worked better than I did. I should be with him.

It was a silly idea. I wasn't in the army anymore. He had a whole squad of trained soldiers to cover him. Surely, they could watch his back at least as well as I could. But, in my heart, I didn't really think so. It was my job. I was his partner. I even wondered if he was right – how long would the army take to fill out the forms to let me back in? Then I remembered that I would have to sign up for two years of duty. He would get out in a few weeks and I would be stuck in the army. That would never work.

I lay back in bed, my pulse returning normal. Why were the nightmares back? Was it because I knew there was no one to comfort me in the night now? Or was my mind trying to tell me something?

The next day was another full one, although now we were cleaning up. Still, it was good to be busy. Amazingly enough, there were even leftovers. I tried not to look at the phone every few minutes. Eventually I decided that I couldn't be in the same room with it or it would drive me mad. I caught myself peeking back into the kitchen every once in a while to make sure it was still there, it hadn't been left off the hook, no one else was tying up the line.

The afternoon was hot, stifling. Annie suggested a swim, but I didn't want to leave the phone. She must have seen my eyes go to it one more time, since she asked her mom to stay and listen for the phone for us. And she was right about swimming. The water cooled my body and soothed my mind. It was wonderful. We stayed in the shallows and listened to Finnie's glee.

But as we walked up to the house, I heard the phone ringing. I broke into a run and took the back stairs 3 at a time. Just as I reached the kitchen door the ringing stopped. I fell onto the doorframe in defeat. I didn't have his number. I couldn't call him back. Susan was out cold on the couch in the living room. How could anyone have slept through all that ringing? I tried not to be angry with her, but tears stung my eyes.

The next day was agony. There was not much left to do, although I tried to find things to do around the house. I scrubbed Annie's old pots viciously, trying to remove every ancient stain. I swept the sand off the porch again and again. My nerves were tense, waiting, mostly for the phone to ring, but also for the time to pass, the weeks to be over. This wasn't going to work for a month. I thought about going hunting, but I couldn't miss another phone call.

We ate lunch on the back porch and I had just finished when the phone rang. I was in the kitchen before the second ring finished.

But it wasn't Gale.

"Mrs. Mellark, this is Captain Brighton, Sergeant Hawthorne's commanding officer." The somber tone of his voice knocked the air out of me. I couldn't follow what he was saying. I could only catch some of the words "the Nut," "accident," "so sorry." Annie came in. She looked at me questioningly.

"There's been an explosion at the mine," I said as my ears filled with a strange rushing sound. I felt the blood leaving my face, the floor tilted and my world went black.

* * *

The panic was there the second I came to. I was on the sofa with a cold cloth on my head and Annie holding my hand.

"Katniss? Are you awake?" she asked.

I nodded, but then winced at the pain in my head.

"I talked to the captain. Gale might be okay. This is what they know. The squad was taking some dignitary down into the Nut. They went down in three groups. Gale was with the first group. There was an explosion while the second group was going down. They think that the lift malfunctioned and somehow triggered either some kind of gas or rock dust. The lift was destroyed and the power and communications were knocked out. They don't know what happened to those below. They are trying to find a way to get to them or to at least get in touch with them and find out who's . . . if they are hurt. He'll get back to us as soon as they know more."

I could see Prim sitting straight at her desk, hands folded, waiting for me to take her over to the mine. We always went to the mine, to wait, to watch, to be there. We stood, shivering, clenching the rope line. There was no more horrible, helpless place to be than waiting as the daylight slipped away, taking hope with it.

But I had to be there.

"I'm going," I said.

"What?"

"I'm going to 2. Tonight."

"Katniss, you can't do that. You just blacked out. You can't go wandering around the country on your own."

"I'm going. I'm going to go wait, to help if I can, to be there."

"Wait until we get more news. Then you can go. Maybe I can go with you."

"What if he's hurt? What if they get him out and he is . . . doesn't have much time? I'm going."

I can be very stubborn when I need to be. Annie did not understand how an accident in a mine was handled. And whatever they called it, the Nut was still a mine.

* * *

By 7:30 the next morning I was in District 2. The others all thought I was insane and I didn't care. Maybe I was, but I knew where I needed to be. They did everything they could to talk me out of it, but they stopped short of binding and gagging me and stuffing me in a closet. That was the only thing they could've done that might have worked.

So here I was. And I had no idea what to do now.

Captain Brighton had left a number where he could be reached, but I hadn't wanted to call him since he might tell me that I couldn't come, that he wouldn't allow me on the Base.

I knew I had to go through the Base to get to the Nut. And there was security at the Nut, so I needed to find Captain Brighton. Somewhere on the Base. How hard could it be to find an army base that big? To find the Commander of the Base? I didn't want to be their Mockingjay anymore, but if I had to I would pull that card. They were not going to keep me out.

I stepped off the train and immediately wished I had a bigger coat. It was colder here. Or maybe my blood had just lost all of its warmth. What I needed was Gale and I was going to do whatever it took to get him back. I was going to see him again.

I looked around, as if there might be a giant neon sign proclaiming "This way to Captain Brighton's office." No sign.

As my eyes searched the square, someone grabbed me from behind. I spun around and found myself looking into brown eyes I did not expect.

"Johanna."

"Katniss. We need to talk." It wasn't a request.

* * *

**Thanks for the beta work – IrishLuck19, including the fainting tips.**

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	22. Big Bang

**Big Bang**

"Cover!"

"Five, four, three, two, one . . . "

Oommph. The silent blast rumbled deep in the earth beneath us. Time held its breath as we waited for . . .

AWHAM! BIP! BIP! BIP! BIP! BIP! The sound came seconds later, then an aftershock and a blast of hot air. Shine stood, watching the blast and feeling the aftershock he had caused.

Actually, Groves had caused this one. Shine set it up, but he let Groves push the small yellow button that remotely detonated the ammo demolition. At breakfast Shine had asked if anyone wanted to come and "blow off some steam" and Groves had volunteered.

My back was up against the lead-filled barrier. I had stopped writing so that the jolt wouldn't cause me to scratch my pen across the paper, but as soon as the aftershock was over I went back to making an inventory of the stuff we were taking below.

"Sarge! You should've seen that one!" Shine never got tired of disposing of old ordnance. This one had included a couple of unexploded bombs we had found on L5 and a bunch of ammo found in various residential units.

"Seen one big bang, you've seen them all." I didn't look up. I knew he would have an ecstatic gleam in his wide eyes behind his blast glasses.

"No way. That one went up thirty feet with first gray smoke, then white. Then the little stuff started going and there was this awesome streak that scythed up through the middle. Groves – wasn't it great?" He was laughing. Sometimes I worried about him.

"Amazing." I looked at Groves and our eyes met. He meant Shine's reaction, not the blast.

"So, ready to head back?" I grabbed my stuff and headed over to our jeep.

We drove over to the demolition site, packed up the debris then went back to the Base for more meetings.

Shine was still hyper on the ride back, but Groves was quiet. He was never much of a talker but lately he seemed to have completely clammed up. I hated that I was now wondering if he could be trusted. About two weeks ago he had gotten an urgent phone message letting him know that his newborn baby was in the hospital, getting tons of tests since something wasn't right. Of course, he'd been tense since then. Maybe he was just worried about his family and that was why he wanted to come blow some stuff up. But what if there was more to it than that? I didn't know much about District 7. Could someone there be threatening his child if he didn't do . . . something? I wished I had time to find out more about what was going on there.

And Shine. Clearly the guy was a little nuts about blowing things up - which worked out well for a boomer. He was good at his job, careful, methodical up until he went into ecstasy over the actual blast. And he was smart. He and Mercurius had invented a better remote detonator using a bunch of old Communicuffs. They had rigged up a way for one to trigger the other that could be fired by pushing a simple yellow button. Brighton had made them include a safety mechanism on it, but it was a good idea.

Now I was wondering why he was so manic today. He was another one I wasn't sure about. He was from District 1. They had always been cozy with the Capitol. Even though I had worked with him in GDU, I really didn't know much about his background, his family, why he had become a rebel. He spent his leaves in the Capitol. I knew that he loved to bet on anything and everything and was a mean poker player. Could he have gambling debts?

He'd been very disappointed that Paylor's media rep killed his idea of bringing the President out here to let her blow up some old ordnance. That had been one of the only highlights of a long and miserable meeting yesterday.

* * *

President Paylor's media lady, Mica Rutilus, had arrived Wednesday evening. Her short hair was stop sign red. We'd be going into the Nut on Friday and she seemed to think she would need to lecture us until then. We were just annoyingly talkative props whose suggestions weren't welcome.

"Any equipment needed for the mission will be taken in the day before, only necessities, nothing extra."

"Should we take our gear to basecamp or do you want it taken to L5?" I asked.

She paused and glared at me.

"Everything goes to L5. No soldier should be carrying anything once the president joins your squad, including guns."

"Sorry, it is squad policy to have control of our firearms at all times. We can carry them unloaded if you like, but we can't send them down ahead." I was trying not to enjoy tweaking her.

"Are you telling me that you are armed right now?"

"Yeah. But on base, firearms can be kept locked away. We just can't ever let them be out of our personal control."

"Alright, you may carry unloaded firearms as long as they stay in their holsters. You will all wear full blast gear and helmets. Now, as I was saying the equipment . . . ."

"We can't wear blast gear on the lifts." Across the table, Chervil hid his mouth behind his folded hands, but I could see his shoulders shaking.

"Excuse me?"

"Blast gear takes up a lot of space, especially for the boomers. There isn't room on the lifts." Marik in his blast gear would take up an entire lift by himself. I didn't mention that blast gear was uncomfortable and incredibly hot to wear all day. Our comfort wasn't high on her priority list.

"Full gear isn't needed then. Body armor will suffice, with helmets. The President will require . . ."

"She'll look like she is surrounded by robots if we all wear helmets." At this point, I was being obnoxious, just trying to help my squad stay awake. "I thought you said we were chosen for our district diversity. We don't look very diverse in helmets. Except for Marik." He looked at the table, suppressing a grin.

She didn't get my joke. I didn't think she knew about jokes.

"I will let you know when and if we need diversity, otherwise - helmets."

"Is the President going to get to do anything fun?" Shine jumped in, apparently heartened by the fact that I had survived.

"Fun?" I thought she might need a dictionary for that one.

"We saved an ammo blow for her."

"The President's schedule does not permit any additions. Now, as I was saying, your normal gray uniforms are unacceptable. I want everyone in the black body armor. I will be going below with you to ensure . . ."

No detail was left unturned.

The meeting went on for 4 hours. The headache I had gotten two days ago was building again. We went over every step the President would make. By the end I strongly suspected that Mercurius had found a way to sleep with his eyes open. Meanwhile, I had been hoping to get a phone call in to Katniss, to at least let her know I had gotten in to District 2. No chance.

Then as we were leaving, Rutilus called me back – "Hawthorne, a word." I watched enviously as the rest of the squad left. "Your helmet stays on whenever the cameras roll."

"Excuse me?"

"This mission is to spotlight the President. We do not need to clutter the message by having a recognizable face visible."

"Fine. Look, if that is why you want helmets, just have me wear one. The President will look more human if she is with real soldiers and not helmeted automatons."

"You and one other."

"Who?" Was anyone else on the squad recognizable?

"It doesn't matter. It'll look better to have 2 soldiers in helmets instead of one. But not any of the obvious Capitol types. We need to show that they're part of this effort."

Instead of going straight back to the barracks I stopped by the kitchen to grab some coffee. Tonight I needed to go over the security files buried deep in the stack of reading the Captain had handed me.

Beetee was just leaving with a cup of steaming coffee in his hand. "You're back," he said when he saw me. At first I thought I had startled him, but then I realized he was just wide-eyed and wired from too much coffee or too much nervous energy, something.

"Yep, just in time for all of the fun," I answered.

Beetee ran his fingers through his hair. "Be careful down there," he said as he took off down the hall. I sighed, hating all this vague worrying stuff.

On the way back to the barracks I saw Mercurius walking ahead of me. Wherever he had been he hadn't gone straight back after the meeting either.

"Taking a midnight stroll?" I asked.

"Just tried to visit somebody," he said. "Not in."

"Lady friend?"

"Several of them." Yeah, sure. There weren't very many women on base and he had a dejected air about him.

"Anything to report from Nick's?"

"There is a cook from 8. He told me about Paylor's bodyguards, the two who're probably coming with her into the Nut."

"What are their names?"

"In 8 they called them 'Tweedle Mean and Tweedle Mum.' Their real names are Horrock and Batton."

"Yeah, those are the two listed. They must be her regular bodyguards."

"More than that. They've been with her forever. Tweedle Mean, Lea Horrock, is a huge lady, fanatically devoted to Paylor. Now she is her Chief of Staff, but she still acts as a bodyguard because she won't trust anyone else with the job. Tweedle Mum, Hank Batton, is a small guy, but tougher than nails."

"Thanks for the heads up. Anything else?"

"It might be a bit personal, but . . . ." He'd never seemed to care much about other people's privacy before. "Chervil's been spending a lot of time over there, drinking a fair bit."

"Anything bothering him?"

"Not that I know about."

"Thanks for letting me know. Keep an eye on him, okay?"

"I'm your spy. Not a nursemaid." He didn't know I was looking for spies. He was kidding around, but it threw me. To be honest, I didn't trust him. I had trouble looking beyond the fact that he was from the Capitol. And he was a bit too slick for his own good.

* * *

Classified documents shouldn't have been so boring. I was struggling to stay awake as I poured through the same forms I'd filled out to get clearance. There wasn't much new in them. And there wasn't any sign that anyone had verified any of the information.

There were some interesting tidbits buried in the dross. Walker's forms were thoroughly and carefully filled out. He had been part of an elite group of young soldiers chosen for an advanced training program. He was very bright and motivated. But he had been nominated by Commander Coin herself. What did he think about her assassination? He'd never said anything to me, but that was hardly surprising.

Chervil's file was small. I guess filling out forms and paperwork hadn't been a priority in the underground. But most of the other files had sections completed by former supervising officers. It seemed that only one of Chervil's supervisors had been found. Did that mean all the rest of them were dead? Or that he hadn't been supervised? Or that he hadn't given their names so that they couldn't be tracked down?

I expected Mercurius's file to be more interesting, too. With his mouth and his interest in paraphernalia from the Capitol I was amazed that his record was as clean as it was. Had he just never gotten caught? Or had someone scrubbed his records?

I hated being suspicious like this.

I finally gave up around 3 a.m. I had one more night to look at the rest.

* * *

The next day when we got back from the ammo blow I sent Shine to turn in all the paperwork while Asher and I checked the equipment that was going down into the Nut. It wouldn't look good for Paylor to be surrounded by soldiers carrying tons of equipment while she carried nothing. But they didn't want to make her carry anything. So we had to make an extra trip into the Nut to take all our equipment down ahead of time. This garbage drove me crazy.

Asher, Walker, Redstone and Shine took our stuff to the Nut. What with clearing security and going all the way down to L5 and back it would take them most of the day, but for once they weren't complaining. The rest of the squad and I went off to another marathon meeting.

Why we all had to be there I had no idea. Rutilus briefed us on the layout of the Nut. Who did she think had updated the map her assistant was pointing to on the wall? I rolled my eyes at Captain Brighton, who had to join us for all of the meetings, but he just shook his head. There were so many better ways to spend this time.

She also covered the other personnel who would be joining us, but Mercurius had given me more useful information on them than she did in one tenth the time.

Dinner was a welcome break. Unfortunately, it _was_ just a break. We had to go back for more briefing afterwards. Rutilus had wanted to just have food sent in but, thankfully, Brighton had intervened.

I ate quickly so that I could squeeze in a phone call before heading back. I wasn't the only one with this plan. Nearly the entire squad lined up to use the phone. The group that had been over to the Nut had gotten done before we did so they were in the front of the line.

Asher was already on the phone. I wondered who he was talking to. Something about his expression said it was a girl. I couldn't remember him talking about anyone special lately. He'd turned out to be a good choice as Assistant Squad Leader and when I left at the end of the month, he'd take over as Leader. He seemed pretty loyal to Paylor, although he hadn't actually known her back in 8. I still had to look over his file and see if he had any baggage I didn't know about.

Walker was leaning on the wall, next in line. I looked around for Redstone. He wasn't there. There was nothing suspicious about not wanting to make a phone call. I knew his family still lived in 2. He went home to see them whenever he had a leave. He had his issues with Onyx, and he had fought for the Capitol, but his change of heart seemed genuine to me. Shine wasn't around either, but he never called his family.

Marik was next to me in line. He would be calling his mom and grandpa in 4. Out of the whole squad he was the only one I trusted completely. It was partly because we had worked together for more than a year and a half now. Partly because he was an incredibly decent guy. I looked over at him. His face was screwed up into a puzzled frown.

"Walker? Is that smell you? You smell like . . . moonshine." Marik was right. Something around here reeked of Haymitch.

"Yeah, all of us stink. The guys at security on the way out of the Nut gave us hell."

"What happened?" I asked.

"Little Miss Don't-Take-Anything-You-Don't-Need, what's her name, Rutilus, had a bottle of some sort of homemade booze in her bags. A glass bottle. When I threw her bag down in the office it broke and got all over everything. We cleaned it up as much as we could, but that was strong stuff."

Great. She was the kind who liked to make rules for others to follow, but couldn't be bothered with them herself. There was nothing I could do about it. She wasn't Army; she didn't work for me.

Just then Mercurius came up. Mercurius's face was pale, almost green. "I'm not feeling too good," he said.

Doc was just behind me in line. He perked up. "Hey, I'll take him over to the clinic to get checked. Might be a couple of hours."

"Sure. Let me know what you find out. I'll you know if anything important happens in another few hours of meetings."

Finally, I got my turn on the phone. And I got to listen to it ring and ring and ring. Where could they be? There was always someone hanging around in Annie's house. Katniss might be out in the woods - I had reminded her to check the snares - but where was everyone else?

Back in the meeting room I kept running through places Katniss could be where she wouldn't hear the phone. They wouldn't go into town on a random night when Davy and Jonah had to work the next day. Maybe they were swimming. I wished I was. I couldn't shake the feeling that my whole visit to District 4 hadn't really happened; it was just some happy hallucination. Had I really been swimming and hunting and kissing Katniss just two days ago?

Doc came in at some point and slipped me a note: "Mild food poisoning. Sent him to barracks to lie down. Should be fine by tomorrow." All I could do was be jealous of Mercurius that he'd gotten out of this meeting. At least when I was badgering Rutilus earlier it had kept me awake. I looked around the table; almost everyone was in a stupor. Brighton was filling out some sort of paperwork, not even bothering to try to look like he was listening.

As Rutilus went over emergency procedures for the Nut, again, she suddenly paused and stared at her Communicuff. "Excuse me. It's the president. I need to take this."

A couple of minutes later she returned and said "I'm sorry, but I have some business that I need to take care of for the President. Go through the notes I've given you and I'll meet you all tomorrow at 8 a.m. to go over to the Nut."

It was all I could do to suppress a cheer. Freedom! Well, sort of. Anyway, I could try to call District 4 again and maybe get some decent sleep tonight. Everyone else headed back to the barracks.

There was another line at the phone. There usually was. I was leaning on the wall, half-way asleep when Walker called from the end of the hall "Sarge, come quick. There's a fight in the barracks."

We sprinted over. As I walked in I could tell that the fight was over, for now. Marik was standing in the middle of the room, separating the two warring parties. Chervil and Shine were talking to Mercurius, who they had backed up into a wall. He wasn't protesting too much, but his face was hard and his fists were still clenched. His lip was also bleeding.

The surprise was that Asher and Groves were wrestling with Redstone, but they couldn't get a good grip on his arms. He wouldn't stop thrashing, still wanting to have another go at Mercurius. He already looked like he was going to have a shiner. He was insane if he thought he could take Mercurius on, even if Mercurius was sick.

"Redstone, Asher, Groves, in my quarters," I said. "Nobody else leaves. Where's Doc?"

"Went to get some ice packs."

"Are you nuts?" I asked Redstone, who had finally stopped struggling and was sitting on my bed with his head in his hands.

"He was going through my stuff. I walked in and saw him digging in my trunk."

"Obnoxious. But you thought you'd handle it by attacking him? That's crazy." Redstone wasn't usually a hot head. I couldn't help wondering what he had in his trunk that had him so wound up.

I talked to Asher and Groves and they pretty much agreed with Redstone.

"Need an icepack in here?" Doc asked, peeking in.

I nodded. "Go get your ice. Send the other three in."

I wanted to talk to all three of them too, both to keep them out of the barracks with Redstone for a bit and to see if they backed up Mercurius.

Mercurius leaned up against the wall, arms crossed. He had refused an icepack for his lip. Chervil and Shine lined up next to him.

"So were you going through his trunk?"

"Yes."

I waited for him to continue on his own, then glared at him and asked "Why?"

"I was looking for my magazines. Someone took them."

"Any reason to think it was Redstone?" Redstone had never shown any interest in Mercurius's smutty magazines. Wasn't Shine paying attention enough to know that Redstone wasn't into that kind of thing?

"Not particularly. I just glanced in there to see if they were on top."

At that point, Chervil cleared his throat. "I . . . um . . . I borrowed the magazines."

"Great. So what happened when Redstone came in?"

"He went nuts. Started cursing at me, then he slugged me. Look, I could have hurt him way worse than I did, but I didn't. He's usually a good kid. Why couldn't he just have talked to me?"

"Because he thought you were going through his stuff." Mercurius knew that everyone was a bit protective about their trunks. Maybe because there was not a lot of privacy in the barracks.

I studied him. He was right that he could have taken Redstone apart but didn't.

"Are you feeling better now?" I couldn't get over the feeling that his brief illness had been very convenient.

"I was, until I was attacked." I must have looked skeptical; he gave me a wide-eyed innocent stare. "Ask Doc or the nurses in medical, I was really sick. It just didn't last long."

"You can go back in the barracks. I'll let you know what your punishment will be in a few minutes."

The other two left, but Mercurius turned back around. He looked me straight in the eyes, almost as though he was trying to tell me something without saying it out loud. "I need to go on the mission tomorrow. Ask Brighton if you aren't sure." Then he went into the barracks.

I sat down on my bed, closed my eyes and tried to think. There were at least two questions here. The easy one was what was fair. I couldn't let them get away with fighting within the squad, but no one had been seriously hurt and neither of them was being a complete jerk. Usually trading their next weekend liberty for KP would be enough. Mercurius used to enjoy Kitchen Patrol, but since the one cute young cook had been transferred it had lost its appeal. A weekend peeling potatoes and washing pots should make the point.

But the other question was whether I wanted them to come on the mission, whether I trusted them. That might not have been fair, but with President Paylor there, the stakes were much higher than usual. Mercurius seemed to understand that.

I decided just KP for both of them. My vague prejudice against Capitol types wasn't enough to justify making Mercurius stay up. I sent Brighton a message regarding my decision and if he had strong objections I could change my mind later, but I didn't want to leave them hanging.

I didn't hear back from Brighton so the next morning, after a lot of introductions to the president and her "bodyguards," we all went over to the Nut. Security was cleared remarkably quickly, partly because we had already sent all of our equipment in and partly out of respect for the president. They did verify that all of our guns were unloaded. As requested, I wore a helmet. So did Redstone, which also covered his black eye.

Everything seemed fine until we got to the entrance of the Nut. Without thinking, I stopped. I did not want to go back in there. I'd thought my time away from the Nut would make it easier to handle going down into the lower levels when I got back. Instead I felt a physical revulsion to the whole place.

"Is there a problem, Soldier?" It was Tweedle Mean, Lea Horrock. She was right behind me, waiting to get in. She was almost as tall as me, dressed in some sort of blue bodyguard uniform and she seemed to be working to suppress a smirk.

"No problem," I said and forced myself to keep walking.

The plan was to go down the elevators in two large groups, then split into three groups for the smaller lifts. I'd be with the first group: Shine, Delmar and Asher. We took one fewer person since Delmar counted as at least two, but once we were down he could operate the lift for the rest of them. The next group would be President Paylor, Tweedle Mean and Tweedle Mum - excuse me, Horrock and Batton - Mercurius and Redstone. I had a flash of concern about having Mercurius and Redstone together. But being with the president should make them forget their quarrel at least long enough for an elevator ride. The final group was Rutilus, Doc, Chervil, Walker and Groves.

I found myself waiting in front of the elevator door with sweat running down my back. My stomach turned. I didn't want to get into that elevator; I didn't want to go down there.

I looked around, trying to think of a reason to stay up, to go down with one of the other groups. Tweedle Mean was standing in the front of the next group. Since I had a helmet on, she couldn't see my eyes, but she seemed to know the elevator was getting to me.

For a wild moment I wanted to slug the witch. What did she know about elevators, lifts, mines and darkness? The door opened and I made a point of marching straight in, just to show her that I didn't care, that I could do it. I spent the whole trip with my eyes closed, forcing myself to think of the ocean.

When it was time to get onto the lifts I felt Horrock's eyes on me again. I entertained a quick fantasy about ditching her somewhere in a dark corner of L6, and again I went purposefully onto the lift. Then I closed my eyes and tried to remember the smell of salt water.

We were almost down when Asher asked "Sarge, do you smell gunpowder?"

I took off the helmet. "I might."

"We don't have any equipment with us and our guns aren't loaded. Where would that smell come from?" We all started looking around.

Then I noticed that Shine, who was in the front middle, wasn't looking around. He was frozen, staring directly ahead of himself into the door. We'd almost reached the bottom. My heart was pounding. Something wasn't right.

"When we get out I want everybody to line up, at attention." They all did as I told them. "Weapons." I demanded. I set down my helmet, went down the line and verified that each gun was unloaded. As soon as I was done checking Marik's I sent him over to the lift. Luckily I trusted him enough to let him out of my sight since he had to operate the lift.

None of the guns smelled very strongly of gunpowder. In fact, out of the closed space of the lift I wasn't even sure that I smelled it any more.

"Do you still smell it, Asher?" My eyes kept going back to Shine. He stood rigidly.

"No, Sarge. Not now." They were waiting for me to tell them at ease, but I didn't. I heard the lift being loaded above. The president would be in this group. It would be fairly easy to fake an accident on one of these old lifts. Why were the Capitol goons all worried about who should wear helmets and sending equipment down early, but fine with letting her ride in a death trap?

The air reeked of stale coal dust. The corridor was silent as I stood at attention myself, trying to decide what to do.

I walked around the two who were standing there with their hands straight at their sides.

The lift began to squeal and creak as it started its journey downward.

I stood behind Shine, trying to figure out what it was about the way he was acting that bothered me so much. I could almost see the tension radiating from his shoulders. His right hand flexed slightly at his side and I saw a brief flash of yellow. Without thinking, I grabbed his arm and yanked it back.

On the inside of his wrist, was a yellow detonator button.

Shine whipped around, but I didn't let go. His madly wide eyes confirmed my suspicion. Wherever the detonator's bomb was, I'd found our traitor. And given Shine's fighting skill I was - we all were - in big trouble.

"Asher! Help me!" I called. Asher was still facing straight ahead, at attention. He wheeled around and looked completely confused to see us struggling.

"Detonator on wrist," I grunted. Shine was strong. He was trying to bring his other hand around to hit the detonator. He didn't seem to have realized yet that he only had to hit it on anything.

Asher didn't pick up on that either. He grabbed Shine's other hand and held onto it. That left me free to clutch his right hand with both of my hands. I wanted to force his arm up into the air. I only had to hold on for a few minutes, just until the lift was down, and I could hear it approaching. I flipped around, turned my back to Shine and began to force his arm up, up where there was nothing he could smash his wrist into. He bit my shoulder; he was struggling insanely, but I didn't loosen my grip. Then just as I thought I might have it made, he realized what I had known before. He stopped fighting against me and instead smashed his wrist, up, right into my face.

There was a small pop, like a low-powered fire-cracker, like a small bit of explosive tape around a lift cable; then a scream, lots of screams. The lift hit bottom with a crash, but it had been almost down. They hadn't fallen far, just enough to scare everyone inside.

"Clear the lift!" I yelled at Asher who raced over to help them. I hadn't let go of Shine. I wasn't letting this bastard get away. I saw the President being hurried off of the lift. Marik detached himself from the lift rope and came over towards me, his . . . .

KABAMM!

My last thought was "I am _not_ going to die in a coal mine."

* * *

**Thanks for all your help, IrishLuck19. This bonus update is due to her extra efforts this week.**

**Thanks for reading and reviewing. Great to see some newbies! EchoDeltaNine, haleighlynn, KidsInLovex, Mcr3, freedomfighter1776, RipredtheGnawer, gale4ever, Analyn Ruse, Allie, katieg343, iliketosniffcheese, MsRXS, MountainAir, Night Wolf, jessicaclairee, cattastrophies, HungerGamesGirl127, willa-wisdomgoddes26, GaleKatniss.**


	23. Paranoid

**Paranoid**

Johanna's greeting might have looked friendly, but her grip around my shoulders was cold steel. I bit my lip. Should I go with her? Did I have the time? Did I have a choice?

"Johanna, I need to get to the Base, to see Commander Brighton. Can you show me where it is?"

"What you're going to do is come with me. Now. Then I will get you to the Base." She was already moving swiftly, pushing me out of the train station square. I stopped and braced myself. She was going to have to throw me over her shoulder if she wanted me to move.

"No. I need to get over there now. I need to get into the Nut."

"You're delusional. You're not getting into the Nut. Now shut up and come with me." Johanna looked around us, not moving her head, eyes moving quickly. She seemed to think that someone could be watching us, listening to us. A shudder ran through me. I decided to go with her, to at least find out what she knew.

We moved briskly, in silence, then turned down a street and then again into an alley. Johanna kept her arm thrown over my shoulder, partly guiding me, partly pushing me. We came to a grimy stairway, which led down into a building. At the door, Johanna slid a part of the doorframe down, revealing a strangely clean touchpad. She punched in some numbers and I heard the door click open. The doorframe slid back into place. We went in, Johanna pausing at the door to glance back and make sure that there was no one there.

"We can talk now," she said. "This is a Safe Room. No bugging."

"Paranoid much?" Although so far my paranoia usually undershot reality. I thought of the bag of bugging devices we'd removed from the Victor's Village houses.

"You have no idea."

"What is going on? What was all that? Who would be following us?"

"Don't talk. Just listen. I have a lot to tell you and no time for chatting. Sit down." She crossed her arms, planted her feet and tried to stare me down.

We were in a bare cement room which had nothing in it, but a small folding table and a few chairs. I leaned up against a wall.

"Why should I listen to you? After what you did to Gale, what you did to his squad."

"You think he told you everything?"

"Yes." Gale had no reason to lie to me.

"Did he tell you about the noose I took out of his hands?" She leaned on the table and glared at me. I went to answer, but found no words.

"Damn. Remind me never to depend on your ability to lie. You're an open book," she scoffed.

"When?" I knew she loved shocking me, but I needed to know.

"While you were off, too busy to care about your former best friend. So you owe me. I saved your pretty boy for you. You owed me anyway. You promised me that you'd kill Snow. You swore on the lives of your family. I won't fall for that one again."

"What's your complaint? Snow's dead. Or did you have a thing for Coin?"

"I have a thing for meaning it when you swear. Listen, the explosion was at 12:20 p.m. yesterday. I'm going in there to try to save whoever I can, but every minute we waste they're down there, dying in the dark."

"Alright." I sat down. "What do you want to tell me?"

"That was not an accident at the Nut. There was an explosion in the lower lift. Someone is trying to kill President Paylor and they may have succeeded. We don't know."

"Wait – President Paylor?"

"So Gale didn't tell you."

"I don't think he knew."

Johanna's eyes rolled a bit as if to say 'Sure.'

I tried again. "Brighton wouldn't give him much information over the phone."

"District 4 must not have been much fun if he was willing to leave without knowing why."

"That's none of your business." No one was supposed to know that the trip went well. I didn't know what I should tell Johanna.

"If I'm gonna help you rescue your boyfriend then it is my business. Don't bother lying to me. You're here. That tells me what I need to know."

"How do I know I can trust you?"

"You don't, brainless. But you don't have any other choices, do you? Now shut up already. I am here on special assignment with I.I."

"Excuse me?"

"You don't know what I.I. is? Internal Investigations?"

"Should I? I'm a civilian."

"I.I. reports directly to the President. Squad 425 is supposed to be part of a publicity bit, basically getting footage for another propo. They were going to take the president down to see the parts of the Nut they have cleared, spend one night down there to remind everyone that Paylor is still a tough one and then come up and show off the pictures.

"I don't have time for the whole long story. I've been investigating Squad 425 and there are at least two spies on the squad. I reported back to Paylor's office and they told me to end my investigation and look into possible food smuggling out of the kitchen. Since then my investigation of the squad has been . . . just call it informal. In the next couple of hours I am going AWOL and going into the Nut to see what I can find out, if there are survivors down there who need help."

"I'll come with you." I was not going to sit there and wait by the entrance, watching to see who came back up, praying they would be alive.

"No, you won't. The only way to get in is through Security and you have to be on the clearance list to get past. I'm on the list, at least for the next few hours, and you're not."

"I can sneak in." There had to be a way.

She pursed her lips and shook her head. "No way. First off, you're the most recognized face in Panem. And since the explosion security is tighter than ever, guards are posted along the fences. You can help more being our contact up top. I'll take you over to Beetee before I leave."

"Your contact? So you'll let me know what's going on down there. How?"

"I'll get to that in a minute."

If what Gale needed was for me to help up top, then I'd do it. "So wait – who are the spies? Who're they spying for? What's going on?"

"There seems to be a loose network of people who aren't happy with Paylor. That's why I was sent here. There were info leaks coming out of this Base. There's a guy on the Squad, Shine. He's copied and stolen documents, maps and sent them to someone in the Capitol. I'm not sure who; that's not my department. Apparently they've been plotting to kill Paylor when she went into the Nut and make it look like an accident."

"Who's the other one?"

"What other one?"

"You said there were two."

She locked eyes with me for a moment. "No. I meant there might be more. I don't know."

I wasn't the only one who was a lousy liar. I let it go.

"Who else is in on it? There has to be more than one guy."

"That's why we are in here where no one can listen to us. But on Base, in the district, everything is bugged, everywhere. When Brighton called Gale the other day, he went into town and called from a pay phone. Which was good, it shows that he knows to be careful, but not good enough. I listened in on that call. Who knows who else did." She smirked at me. Okay, maybe she could lie. She had known all along that Brighton didn't tell Gale much. It wasn't going to be easy to work with Johanna.

"There have got to be some big boys involved. That explosion supposedly took out all communications down into the Nut. That doesn't make any sense. It shouldn't have disrupted the communicuffs at all, much less the Base computers. Someone up top, someone smart, did that. The official story is that they crashed due to excessive use after the explosion, but everyone who can think knows that is garbage.

"Beetee's amazing. He kept the system from completely melting down and he'll have it going full steam before they know it, unless there's another attack. Brighton also seems to be a good guy, but beyond those two I don't trust anyone."

"So what're you going to do? What do you want me to do?" My heart was pounding. All I wanted was to get Gale out of the Nut. Instead I was walking into a nightmare. And one where my bow and arrow were going to be useless.

"I need to get to the Nut before the guards change at 1000 if I'm going to get in. Once I'm in I know how to disappear and get underground. But I won't be able to do it again. They're going to go ballistic when they figure out where I went. I've got a stash of supplies down there and I can look for survivors, get them food and water, some meds, some first aid."

"Wait. If you know a way to get down into the mine why not just tell Brighton? Send a rescue team in for them."

"I would, but there are still people up here trying to kill them. One of the biggest suspects is Colonel Onyx. He's in charge of the Surface and is coordinating rescue efforts. For now, we need to keep him, and anybody sent by him, as far away from them as possible.

"Once I find . . . any survivors I'll try to come back up with whoever can make the trip, but it will involve serious climbing so anyone hurt much won't be able to do it. Beetee is setting up a distraction for me tomorrow to be able to get out without being seen. When we get over to Base I'll show you where to meet me tomorrow after noon. Then we can figure out where to go from there.

"Until then, keep your eyes open and do what you can up top. You can help Beetee. He's working like a madman. But he'll be glad to see you."

"I can't help Beetee. I'm not a tech whiz. And what should I tell them? I'm not supposed to let anyone know that things went well with Gale. Oh, you know that. You heard Brighton."

"Just tell them that you came back because I called and asked you to come. Then act confused about not being able to find me."

"That won't work. Once you disappear they will question me. You already said you can't depend on my lying skills."

"Damn. That's true." Johanna got up and started pacing. "New plan. I've got to go back to Base before I go in. I'll talk to Beetee. You say that he wanted you here. We shouldn't be seen together, but I will make you a map, show you where stuff is."

"Anybody else you trust? Anyone in the Capitol?"

"The only person I trust in the Capitol is Paylor herself, and she isn't there right now. If we're lucky she's trapped down in the Nut. There's a snake on her staff somewhere though. So her office can't be trusted. One more thing – how to get a hold of me. Take this." She handed me a small plastic square, just a bit bigger than the trackers they'd put into our arms in the arena. "There's a special sort of communicuff that we use in I.I. This is the guts to one, although it's a bit fried. Beetee can make it work for you, then you can contact me, but don't let anyone else see it."

I held the little box in my hand. This was the way to find out if Gale was alive, if he was okay. I kept it clutched in my hand as I slid it into my pocket.

Johanna was drawing a map for me. "When I come up tomorrow, the distraction is planned for noon. I should be able to get past the security perimeter here." She pointed to an area on the map, but didn't make any mark on it. "Don't try to go there, but watch from the area roped off for spectators. I will signal you with a mirror. One flash means go back to Beetee's lab and wait there. Two flashes means meet me back here at the Safe Room. If anything goes wrong they'll probably throw me in the jail. That's here. Then come see me there."

"Do you have a map of the Nut? Where are they?"

"No time to get into that. They are on L5, the 5th level down. Get a map from Beetee."

She showed me how to find the Base, then Brighton's office and Beetee's lab. She went over the code names to use once I got the communicator working. Hers was "Dove." She shot me a scowl when I laughed. Mine was "Arrow." The squad members each had a number, alphabetically, so Gale was "Six."

"Beetee can help you, but remember you're always being listened to. And Beetee is even more paranoid than I am. I even think that he has rigged up booby traps in his lab. Some kind of weapons he has stashed up in the ceiling. He doesn't know that I know about that, by the way. The best way to talk to him is on his coffee runs, outside between buildings." She looked at her watch. "It's time to go."

We left the Safe Room and went opposite directions. I stood there in the alley for a moment, trying to memorize landmarks so that I could find my way back. If I could do this in the woods, I could do it in District 2. I went back to the train station, then headed up to the Base from there.

* * *

It took a while to get into the Base, through security, but eventually I ended up waiting for Captain Brighton outside his office. His secretary smiled thinly when she told me to take a seat, but her eyes kept coming back to me as she worked. She seemed to be making sure that I didn't steal any of the furniture. I felt grubby and conspicuous in my civilian clothes. And I had my giant hobo duffel. Nice.

I waited almost an hour. At first I went over everything Johanna had told me, especially the code names, the mirror signals. I couldn't write anything down so I had to lock them into my mind. Then I started wondering where she was right now, was she in yet? Where was Gale right now? Was he hurt? He hated the Nut, now he was trapped there. Was he alive? Would I know in my gut if he was dead? Had I known with my dad? Was it pitch black down there? Were the fires out? Did they have air? My head was starting to ache. I rubbed my left temple. I would rather be in danger, down in the Nut with him, then stuck up here. At least when I was in the arena there wasn't much time to think.

The secretary glanced at me. I hadn't stolen anything, but I was considering tearing the arm rests off of the chair.

I tried to think of what I could do to help Beetee. Nothing.

The door opened. A solid man in gray fatigues with a white crew cut hurried in. His hand was on the doorknob to his office when he registered that I was there.

"Captain, this is . . ."

"I know. Come in."

I followed him. He set some papers on his desk, then turned and shook my hand. "Mrs. Mellark, I'm Captain Brighton. Sit down." I didn't want to sit down. I wanted to climb down into the mine. I sat down.

"Beetee called me. I'm here to help him." I wanted him to know that I was lying. He knew.

"Good." He pushed a button on his desk. "Miss Agate, make up a security pass for Mrs. Mellark, clearance level 4, full meal pass." He let go of the button and looked back at me. "She'll show you where to get the photo for your pass in a moment. I've just been over to the Nut. The squads from levels 1, 2 and 3 are being evacuated. So far, we know very little about the situation on L5. Everything seems relatively stable at the moment. The explosion doesn't appear to have triggered any fires, at least not anything big enough to be detectable from the Surface. They are sending down sensors, but haven't gotten anything down that far yet.

"Beetee's work is crucial. We need communications back up. His lab is here." He handed me a Base map, circling Beetee's lab. It was more detailed than Johanna's hand-drawn map.

"I'm afraid I'll be hard to get a hold of; these next few days are unpredictable." I hated that he said 'days' but I was sure that he meant for me to know it was going to take a while. He stood up and I did too. I was dismissed. I started for the door.

"Mrs. Mellark . . ." He looked intently at me. His eyes said that he was sorry. "Thank you for coming. Oh – one more thing. Ms. Rutilus is going to want to see you. She was on L3, but she'll be out soon. She's the media liaison for the president's office. Word has not yet gotten out that the president's down there, but it will soon. Would you be willing to talk to her?"

Yuck. I wasn't the Mockingjay anymore. My shoulders sagged. "Do you think it will help them?"

"Yes. I do."

"Okay. I'll talk to her."

* * *

I had expected a hug, or something, from Beetee. Instead I stood in the middle of the lab as he typed viciously, his back to me. At last he ran his hand through his hair, turned to me and said "Katniss," like I was here every day.

He stared at me. I could tell he was trying to figure out what to do with me. Every time I thought of something to say I remembered that the room was bugged and said nothing. Finally, I managed "Beetee. I'll do anything I can to help."

"Can you read code?" I shook my head. "Electronics?" Again. "Equations?" Again. "Type?"

"A little." I had taken typing class in school. I got a B-.

"Julina!" he called. A moment later a girl walked in. She was even shorter than me, wearing the usual gray uniform, white blond hair in a ponytail, tattooed silver stars all over her face, down her neck.

"Take Miss Everdeen . . ."

"Mrs. Mellark," I interrupted. It was the name on my security pass and I somehow felt going by that name, my official name, would distract from my connection with Gale.

"Yeah, Mrs. Mellark. Take her to the office. She will help you with the data entry."

"Thanks, Beetee. Let me know if you need anything." He didn't even answer, just turned back to his computer and attacked it again. I started to follow Julina, then remembered something.

"Beetee!" I hurried over to him, clutching the communicator square in my fist. "Can you fix this?"

He took a moment to finish something on the computer, then turned to me. I opened my palm so that only he could see what was in it, but he picked it up and held it up, examining it against the fluorescent lights.

"Where did you get this?"

"I . . . found it." I looked him in the eyes, willing him to know who gave it to me.

His mouth squished up. He frowned and shook his head. "The circuitry is shot. I just don't have time to work on it, and it probably wouldn't work well even then. Sorry. We'll get the system back up soon." He turned back to his work, keeping the square without thinking.

"Beetee?" I held out my hand to him. He looked at me, surprised that I was still there, looked at my hand, then put the square back into it. He went back to work.

I bit down on my lip and closed my eyes. I squeezed the useless circuits in my fist. This had been my hope, my chance to hear Gale's voice again. I forced myself to take deep breaths and pushed the stinging out of my eyes. I put the square back into my pocket, now nothing more than a talisman.

Julina was waiting for me, her eyes huge. "Wow. You're really Katniss Everdeen."

It was hard to know what to say to that. All I could come up with was "Yeah." I followed Julina into a nearby office and reflected that she seemed to have more than the usual childlike quality that so many Capitol residents had. I wondered if Gale had changed his view of them. Maybe not since Johanna seemed to think it had been one of them who had blown them all up. Tried to blow them up.

Julina pulled another wheeled chair over to the lone desk in the room. "I watched all your Games; I've memorized every propo and I think I have all the books," she gushed while staring right into my face. I sat down in the chair and wheeled it a bit away from her.

"Books? What books?" Her gawking seemed to have squelched my ability to do sentences.

"Oh, there's one about your childhood, one about your first Games, one about your Victory Tour. They've never come out with one about the Quarter Quell."

"How about if you show me the work we need to be doing?" I didn't mean to be rude, but I had no idea what else to say to her.

Luckily she jumped right on it. "Everyone here is working like crazy, trying to get communications back up. A lot of what we have to do is just entering numbers, and the best way to do it is with two people. We can take turns typing and reading the numbers, then we need to go over them and double-check. I don't even know what they are for, but it'll be easier with two."

The day crawled by as we entered data. It was so dull that I was relieved when some of it was letters instead of numbers, but none of it made any sense to me. I tried to focus on the work and keep my mind from dark places. Every once in a while I would look up and catch Julina gazing at me. Awkward.

Apparently many of the lab's denizens never left; there were some cots in a room where some of them slept. I wasn't going to do that. I would share Julina's room. On the way to pick up lunch we dropped my bag off there. We got a bunch of boxed lunches and a bunch of coffee from the kitchen. Julina was insistent that I carry the coffee. At the labs most people barely looked up as we passed out the lunches. Then we went back into our office to eat.

Julina began to pepper me with questions. "Do you miss being the Mockingjay? Making the propos? Going to parties?"

I had my mouth full, but I shook my head as vigorously as I could.

"How did you get stuck in the lab? Don't they have some more important jobs for you?"

Finally I had swallowed and could answer. "They are going to find me sooner or later and make me do some propos or something. I'm just here because Beetee and I are friends and I want to find something I can do to help. So if data entry is what they need, fine." I decided to turn the tables on her, maybe get a break from her incessant questions. "What about you? How did you end up in the lab?"

"I was assigned a couple of months ago. They don't seem to quite know what to do with me. I did well on my aptitude tests, I'm good with electronics, but they won't ever give me anything real to do."

"You look young."

She sighed. "I'm 19, but no one ever believes that. I think it is because I am so short." '_And so shallow,'_ I thought. "And some people, a lot of people, have problems with the whole Capitol look."

"I know," I said as I felt a twinge of guilt for my mental jibe.

"It doesn't help that they think I'm a klutz." Her voice dropped and she looked down.

"They do? Why?"

"My first week, I spilled a giant drink all over one of the computers. Everyone freaked out. The worst thing is, after that, I did start dropping things. I'm really very good with my hands, good with fixing things, but no one believes that now." She was looking at her hands, as though trying to decide what to do with them. She looked up at me and gave her head a little shake as she brought back her smile. "So I'm learning to enjoy data entry. At least I got to meet you."

"Give it time. You'll get another chance." I didn't really know that, but I hated to see her so crestfallen.

"So your cousin's really cute. Who do you think he's dating now?"

My sputtering was interrupted by a young man, not in uniform, who came into the office and handed me a note: "You are needed to meet with Mica Rutilus in the auditorium at 1:00."

My mind was still frozen on all of the things I couldn't say to Julina. I had a half-hour before they wanted me. Brighton thought I should go, but my stomach was already regretting the half a sandwich I had eaten. I'd gotten used to press conferences on the Victory Tour, but Peeta had been the one who really knew how to handle them. I needed to talk to someone about whether this was a good idea.

"I'll be right back," I said to Julina, and went into the main lab.

Beetee was still in the same chair, still hunched over his keyboard.

"Beetee, do you have a moment?"

Once again, he finished what he was working on, then turned to me with a look that said – '_No, I don't have a moment._' But he just said "What?"

"They want me to meet with Rutilus, the president's media liaison, probably to talk about making some sort of propo. Do you think I should?"

For the first time since I arrived he seemed to really look at me. "Yes. You can do a lot of good. The rumor mill is about to start working and you can keep things calm, keep people from believing wild conspiracy theories. They'll listen to you."

'_Wild conspiracy theories?_' Was that what I believed? I wished I could talk openly with Beetee, ask him what he thought, but I couldn't. Not here, not now. So I nodded and walked out.

* * *

At 1:00 I peeked into what appeared to be the auditorium. I didn't know any of the people I saw there. I bit my lip and walked slowly down the aisle. Then one woman detached herself from a group huddled on the stage. She had blazing red hair and the Capitol look about her.

She came down the stairs and approached me with a large and practiced smile, threw her arm over my shoulder and steered me towards the others.

"Katniss Everdeen. I've so been looking forward to working with you."

* * *

Two hours later I was in a chair on stage, next to all of the various army officials. Captain Brighton looked exhausted, held up by nothing more than nerves. Of course, none of them looked very happy. Rutilus, though, managed to look like this was just another day in a busy job.

Her statement was confident and unruffled. It wasn't until I thought about it later that I realized that she hadn't said much at all. She acknowledged that President Paylor was down in the Nut, which set off a flurry of flashes and shouted questions. She took a few of them, but it was soon clear that she had very few answers. Then Captain Brighton read a brief statement, like Rutilus's words he had very little information to share, although unlike her he read his statement off a paper with very little expression.

When it was my turn I went to the podium and read my statement. I thought of how smooth Peeta had been. I tried to look up as often as I could and not to sound like a robot: "Ladies and gentlemen of the media, citizens of Panem, I am here today because I share your concern about the safety and welfare of our president. As you know, I'm from District 12 and this is not the first time I have waited outside of a mine to find out who survived after an explosion." Rehearsing I had been fine with this line, but suddenly my throat closed. I was gripping Prim's shaking hand as we watched, for hours, for a survivor who never came. I closed my eyes and fought back tears. I took a deep breath. I only had to get out a few more words. "All we can do is hope and pray that President Paylor and all of those still below with her will be back among us, safe and healthy, as soon as possible."

There was a flurry of flashes and a jumble of noise as I finished. But what I had said felt so incomplete. I heard a mix of shouted questions: "Miss Everdeen - do you think this was really an accident?" "Mrs. Mellark – are you behind the plan to build a statue of Peeta in the Capitol?" "Can you confirm rumors that Johanna Mason is also down in the Nut?" Without thinking my head jerked up at that last one. How could they know that? Were they just guessing? I didn't even know who had asked the question. Looking into the crowd of reporters seemed to make them think that I was going to answer some questions and they began jostling and yelling louder. Ms. Rutilus stepped back up to the microphone and graciously ended the press conference.

I wanted to flee back to the quiet of the lab. I was pushing my way through the crowd, when a hand touched my arm. I looked to see a grave-looking soldier, flanked by several others.

"Katniss?" he asked.

I just nodded.

"Devon Burdock." That name was familiar. Then I saw the medic's badge on his arm and it clicked into place.

"Doc?"

He gave me a weary smile. "Yeah. Do you have a minute? We need your help."

He led me silently out of the auditorium, the others following. It was a mob scene in the hall, but the noise fell away as he made some turns, then went into a quiet stairwell. He looked at me with his finger against his lips, then turned and hurried downstairs. After a few minutes of halls and turns and stairs we emerged behind the building. There were giant industrial fans creating a loud hum.

Doc stopped between two of the fans, turned to me and said "We can talk here."

My first thought was _"Yes, but we can't hear here."_ Then I realized that was exactly the point. We couldn't be heard here. Two of the soldiers separated and went to stand near the corners of the building. Lookouts. Doc and one other soldier leaned in close to talk to me.

"This is Chervil. Over there is Groves, and that's Walker. You might've seen him in 13." I looked over at him, but didn't recognize him. Doc explained that they had been the last group of the Squad to go down so they had still been on L3 when the explosion happened. There had been two other squads working on L3 and they had shared their supplies. Since the power had gone out they still had to wait several hours down in the dark before they could be evacuated.

The two of them looked at me and then at each other. After a moment Chervil said "Look, we don't know why you and a certain someone who's not your cousin are keeping things under the bushel, but whatever. We do know that you're not just here because you're so worried about Paylor." He flashed me an impish grin and I felt my cheeks go warm.

Doc rolled his eyes at Chervil. "Sarge is a terrible liar. And I'd already talked to him while he was in 4, about the boar among other things. How did the boar turn out anyway?"

"Oh. It was great. It was . . . ." Suddenly I had to stop and bite my lip. I took a deep wavering breath to steady myself. Whether it was remembering how wrong it was that Gale missed out on the roasted boar, or relief at finding someone I didn't have to deceive, somehow my eyes were stinging with tears.

Docs eyes popped with panic. But Chervil smiled and said "Don't worry. Sarge won't stay down in that hole a minute more than he has to. He never does."

I nodded and hoped that this would all be over soon.

* * *

**Thanks again for your gracious beta work, IrishLuck19.**

**Thanks to all those who read and review. Welcome back to those of you now done with finals, etc. More than 300 reviews so far – you guys are great!**

**MsRSX, Harryfan626, Heart the Squid, Allie (), wisdom goddess 26, cattastrophies, XanimexotakuX, RipredtheGnawer, katieg343, Jenn06807, soccerluver83, GaleKatniss, GirL0vesDoom, Solaryllis, KidsInLovex, Analyn Ruse, iluvdinos.**


	24. Embedded

**AN – Warning – This chapter involves some serious death and grossness. I don't think it is up to an "M" rating – i.e. I think they could pull this off in a movie without an "R" rating, but if you are faint of heart, or of stomach, you might want to skip this one. **

* * *

**Embedded**

My head hurt. Not just my head, my face, my arm, my chest, everything hurt. Opening my eyes, I found nothing but darkness. I tried to breathe and felt like I was being crushed. Was I already dead? Surely, being dead wouldn't hurt this much. I tried to move, to shift in some way and a ripping pain shot through my left arm. I froze.

I lay still and tried to gather my thoughts. I wasn't dead, yet. I could breathe, not full breaths, but something. There was something seriously wrong with my left hand and arm. I was pinned there and the slightest shift was excruciating. Half of my face felt hot. My upper lip was swollen and tasted like dried blood. I tried not to think about water. My head, the rest of me, was just aching. I was being crushed under a heavy weight, but it felt different than what was crushing my arm. It was cold, but not rock. I experimented with moving my right arm and found that I could work it free from the rock that was on it. I used my right hand to grope around, find out what I could blindly decipher.

I felt the space above me, trying to figure out what was on top of me. I couldn't make sense of it. There was cloth, then something cold, but not hard. Like a piece of ripe fruit. Then I felt a face and my mind and body locked.

There was a dead body on top of me.

I jerked away and a flash of pain from my arm overwhelmed my mind. I squeezed my eyes shut and turned my head away as far as I could. I fought down my nausea and tried with my free hand to push the thing away. It wouldn't move.

I had never heard of a way I wanted to die, but this was worse than any I had considered: To be slowly crushed or starve under the sick weight of a dead thing. Maybe this was the death I deserved. The way others had died in this pit, the way I had killed them. I lay back and wondered how long it would take.

How long had I already been out? It could be three hours or three days. I had no way of knowing. My mouth was dry, but I wasn't hungry. Who could be hungry? I felt sick. Whoever was on top of me was cold, so some time had passed.

It had to be Shine. The last thing I remembered was struggling with him. Where was everyone else?

"Hello?" I called, my voice thin and dry. With my head as far to the side as I could turn it without tasting dirt I took a deep breath and tried again: "Hello?"

"Gale?" I heard a faint, but deep voice answer.

"Marik? Are you there?"

"Yeah, at least for now."

"Are you okay?"

"No. . . . I'm gonna die. . . ." His voice sounded so much weaker than the booming voice I knew. "I'm seeing . . . thought I was gone . . . ."

"Hang on. First, I've got to get loose. Then I'll patch you up."

"Gonna carry me out?" There was a smile in his voice. We both knew I couldn't do that. Even if I wasn't hurt. But maybe I could make him a tourniquet, stop the bleeding, something.

"Hang on," I repeated. I took a breath and braced myself against the pain I knew was coming. I moved my right arm across my chest, under Shine, grabbed his far shoulder, took another breath, and heaved with all my strength.

The pain exploded in my left arm. I might have blacked out for a while. When I shook my head clear I realized that Shine's body was now bent sideways across my torso. That was progress.

"Marik? You there?"

"Not . . . going anywhere."

"Good."

With Shine's body moved, I could twist and reach over with my right hand. I felt a rock, crushing my left arm almost up to my elbow. I took another deep breath. Until my left arm was freed I wasn't going anywhere either. I rolled so that my right hand could reach the rock pinning me. This was going to hurt worse than the last one, but I needed to get to Marik. Soon.

I filled my lungs and whispered: "One, two, three." And I threw what weight I could into the rock, willing myself to keep going even as agony gripped my mind. I started to be sick and choked it down. I felt the rock shift, took another breath, and pushed again. This time I pulled my left arm back as I pressed against the rock, trying to lift it just enough to free my arm. With a sudden lurch my left arm came sliding out. I saw bright lights in the darkness and passed out.

* * *

_I heard the ocean, waves slapping into the sand. The sun was warm against the back of my neck; the water cooling my legs. I felt soft circles drawn onto my knee, heard Katniss's voice, talking, although I couldn't make out the words. . . . Then I was being pulled away; the images blurred into meaningless colors; the sound faded into nothing._

_She was gone._

* * *

I woke with a groan. So many things I had been planning, hoping for: making two rings with the wire I had bought in District 4, going home, sitting together on our rock again, putting one of those rings on Katniss's finger, having a life with her. I wondered if they had called her. She must know about the explosion. I couldn't let her lose someone else to the depths of a mine. And my mom. They would have called her, too. She'd be waiting for news from below once again. Posy, this would be her first time to have to wait, to see who the survivors were. I had to be one of them. I wondered if Posy was holding her rock. Mine was in my pocket.

"_Come on, Posy. Help me_."

My left arm was free now. I tried to move my fingers. Pain shot through my hand, up my arm. That was good; they must be moving then. I felt with my right hand to try to figure out how bad the damage was. The communicuff was crushed into my wrist. My hand was swollen and bloody. Any movement was excruciating. Not good.

"Marik? Still with me?"

I heard a groan. I needed to get over there. Now that my hand was free I could work on getting out from under Shine.

"Marik? Hang in there."

"Trying."

I used my good hand to lift Shine's body as much as I could, then pushed with my feet against rock, scooting back.

"Don't go. Stay with me." I wanted him to keep talking, make him stay conscious while I struggled to get free. "Where are you hurt?"

"Seeing . . . weird stuff." Marik sounded more entranced than scared. That was worse.

"What? What did you see?"

"I could see . . . you."

"That weird." I almost smiled, but he seemed serious. "It's too dark. You were dreaming."

He let out a single laugh, a shadow of his usual booming laugh. "Some dream." He paused. I could hear him trying to gather his breath. "No. I could see . . . see Shine . . . on you . . . rock on your arm."

I froze. How did he know that?

"What else did you see?" I had to remind myself to keep wriggling. I was almost loose.

"Just to your side, your right side. . . . Your helmet."

I had to know. I reached my right arm out as far as I could. My hand touched the hard plastic of my helmet. A cold shiver slid down my neck.

"It's there." I said. Marik deserved to know.

"Yeah." He didn't sound surprised at all. "Hey, is there a lamp on it?"

"Yeah. I'm almost out of this mess." I pulled myself the last few inches and Shine's body fell onto the floor. I pulled my legs away, getting as far from the body as I could. Then I fumbled with the helmet until I found the light switch on the side.

"Let there be light." Marik proclaimed. I wondered who he was quoting now.

Flinching away from the brightness, I set the helmet down and looked around. Its light only reached a small way into the darkness. Almost everything I could see was rock. I could see the huge stone that had been on my arm, Shine's body contorted on the floor, and over by what had been the lift - Marik's mass. I got up and crept toward him, bringing the helmet. My legs ached with a thousand scrapes and bruises, but they worked. I sat down next to Marik.

"Hey buddy, let's dig you out of here." He had a large gash on the side of his face. Most of the rest of him was covered in rock. I could smell something salty, metallic.

"No." He put a free hand on my arm and stopped me. "Don't waste your . . . I'm going."

"You can't. Don't go." His calmness was horrible.

"You gonna . . . make it out."

"I need you. You need to help me get the others."

"I saw . . . alive . . . in office. . . Asher broke leg."

He was scaring me with this weird talk. He seemed to think it was no big deal. With a start I realized that what I smelled was his blood. Lots of it. He made a coughing noise and I saw blood run down his chin. I reached over and wiped it off with my hand.

"Gale, . . .favor?"

I closed my eyes. My breath shuddered. I didn't want to hear this. "What do you need?"

"Pictures . . . in trunk. Give to . . . Mom." All I could do was nod. "Tell her 'Good-bye' . . . see her again, . . . on the other . . . ."

I couldn't say anything. He took my good hand in his huge one.

"Good knowing you. . . I'll . . . ." He never finished the sentence. His head fell back, eyes open. He was dead.

I don't know how long it was before I reached over and closed his eyes. I threw my head back and let out a wordless cry that echoed off the dead walls of the pit. I had no tears. But something inside of me broke.

* * *

I wanted nothing more than to curl up in a corner and pass out. Let the pain take me. But I couldn't. I had to get out of here. I had to get my squad out of here. Was there a rescue operation started? Probably. But I knew from District 12 that they needed the lifts, or at least the lift's empty shaft, to get below. Just looking over at the huge pile of rock where the lift had been, I knew no one would be coming down that way. There were probably other ways down, but it was going to take a while. It would be risky to send anyone down through the Pit up front. We were going to be down here a while.

They would probably pour some extra resources into the rescue since the president was down here. At least we had that going for us. But someone had wanted Shine to kill her. That someone, maybe several of them, would not want her coming back up at all. We'd better figure out our own way up.

Marik hadn't mentioned the president. That was good. The only one he had mentioned was Asher and that was because he thought his leg was broken. Who was in there? It would be Asher, who came down with our group, then Mercurius, Redstone, Paylor and her two attendants: Horrock and Batton. Doc and the rest of the squad, Chervil, Groves and Walker, were up on L3. Their evacuation should be a lot easier since the elevators, or at least the shafts, were probably okay. I didn't need to worry about them.

What I did need to worry about was water. I was already thirsty and it would only get worse. My pack had everything I needed: water, food, a sleeping bag, ammo for my gun, maps. How could I have agreed to send it down ahead of me? I never thought that I wouldn't be able to get to it once I was down. Stupid. At least I had my knife. It was kind of funny that with all the concern that our guns be unloaded they never mentioned any other kind of weapon. I guess media liaisons don't usually carry knives.

Now that was all I had to work with. And the helmet. I brought the helmet over to get a good look at my arm in the light. My stomach lurched. This was going to be trouble. It wasn't bleeding too much, but all of that dirt in the small cuts was bad. If I could find some water I could wash it off. Then again, the communicuff was crushed into the skin. I needed something that could cut metal to get it off. Unless I could get it off it was going to get infected. In fact, it already looked infected – red, swollen, pus around some of the cuts. The skin was a funny color, purplish. The communicuff was cutting off the circulation. Great. Death by communicuff.

I turned off the helmet light to save it while I came up with some sort of plan. My head felt light, it kept flopping on my neck. Where could I find some water? Just like Katniss in the Arena, water was the first thing. I remembered how she had taken her bow off of a dead tribute's body. I wondered if either Marik or Shine had any water on them. A gross thought, but I was desperate. I tried to think it through before I checked their bodies.

Shine didn't have a canteen on him. I would have seen it if he had when I was checking weapons after we got out of the lift. Marik wasn't the type to ignore rules either and his canteen got in the way when he hoisted the lift. Everything they had needed was probably in their packs in the office.

At least the rest of the squad was well supplied. We had sent our packs down to the office because that was where most of us were planning to camp. The office, where the rest of my squad was now according to Marik, was to my left, behind a wall of rock. I listened in the darkness to see if I could hear anything, anyone, there. Nothing. Marik had said they were there and, creepy as it was, I believed him. But there must be too much rock blocking them for sound to get through. It was going to take a lot of digging to get them out. Blasting them out would be just as likely to collapse the tunnel as get them out, especially if I did it since I was no expert in delicate dynamiting.

To the right, down the corridor, were some residential units. The plan had been for Paylor to be given one of those. There had to be some perks to being president. Now, the rockslide around the lift might be blocking the corridor. We'd already cleared the first units in the hall, but down a bit were some that we hadn't gotten to yet. Most of the ones we had cleared had had some bottled water stored somewhere. No food. They must have been as strict as 13 about food.

I turned my helmet light back on and headed over to check.

There was a decent gap between the rocks and the wall. I climbed over the small pile of rocks, but my foot slipped on some unstable rock and I went down. I tried to catch my weight on my right hand, but my left flew out and smashed into the wall. I screamed and, once again, stars exploded in my brain.

I lay there on my side, cradling my arm and catching my breath. The rocks I had dislodged finally stopped their rolling. I needed to be much more careful. I finally got up and moved more slowly over the rock. I did not want to trigger another rockslide. It wouldn't take much to block off this corridor and it was probably our best escape route. It was also my best chance to find water.

How to get in to one of the rooms? The steel doors were too solid to kick in. We usually cut in with a blow torch or blasted the lock off with a door charge. All I had was my knife. And lots of rocks. I decided to check down the hall in case there was a room where the door was not properly shut. We had already found a couple of those and I needed to save my strength.

The blast had not affected this hall very much. It must have been well enforced. But some of the door frames on the right side were askew. Maybe it was under more pressure than I'd thought.

I found an open door, but it was one of the ones we had already cleared. I walked and walked down the hall, checking each door on either side as I went. My steps were becoming more and more unsteady. I was getting cold which wasn't right. The temperature down here was warmer than up above and I still had on my body armor. No way I should be cold. Not a good sign. My brain was fogging, too. I made slow progress down the hall, holding onto the wall with my right hand.

And no doors open. I reached the gaping pit. Everything beyond that was demolished. I sat against a wall and tried to come up with a new idea. All I could do was go back.

I woke with a start. I must have fallen asleep. I headed back down the hall. I checked each door again, hoping I had missed something. When I finally reached the one door that had been open I went inside the bare room and sat on the floor. Somehow it felt more sheltered to be in a room, even if there was nothing useful here. I turned off my helmet light and hoped that I would need it again later.

My mouth was parched and my stomach roiled too much for hunger. I had started to shiver and knew I must have a fever. My mind was getting fuzzy, like our old T.V. back in 12. I couldn't think of what to do next. There had to be something. I curled up into a ball and fell into feverish dreams.

I faded in and out of consciousness. Once I thought I heard a noise in the hall, then decided it was only rocks shifting in the distance. I slipped away again.

* * *

_I was following someone through the mine in 12. I could make out a gun in his hand. He was here to kill, someone, everyone. I heard a sound, a little girl laughing. Posy. She wasn't supposed to be down here. There were pods everywhere. I saw a shadow and followed the killer down the corridor, past old mine carts, skeletons in Peacekeeper uniforms, the lifts. He was looking for her. I had to stop him. I lunged for him and he turned. It wasn't a human; it was a mutt. It stood up taller, twice my height, its face a twisted mix of reptile, wolf and teeth. "Posy" it hissed. I had no weapons, just my bare hands. I swung at it and found – nothing. It shimmered and disappeared. It was gone._

_Then I heard her scream. _

* * *

I jerked awake and felt an answering throb in my hand. I was sweating and short of breath. It was just a dream. I knew the fever was making my dreams more vivid than usual, but I couldn't shake the panic. I glanced out the door and into the hall.

There was light in the hall.

I started to call out, but stopped. Better to find out who it was first. Someone was trying to kill the president. Would they send down an assassin?

I heard a soft footfall. Only one. I rose to my feet, then had to lean against the wall until my neck could support my head. I gripped my knife and peeked through the crack by the door hinge. I could see a figure approaching, a small headlamp on, making very little sound. I couldn't see past the light. I had to pause after every movement, clench my eyes and try to keep the ground still beneath my feet.

As the figure passed my doorway I saw that there was no uniform, only a dark suit, face covered in dark paint. Whoever it was, they weren't part of an official rescue mission.

I stepped out into the hallway. I was too weak to give chase. I would only have one chance to stop them. I would have to use both hands and that was going to hurt.

I took two quick steps, grabbed their neck with my mauled left hand and pressed my knife into their throat with my right hand.

"Hawthorne. Give it a break already." I jumped back in surprise, almost dropping my knife. Johanna turned quickly to face me. "Fancy meeting you here."

"How did you . . .?" I meant - how did she know it was me? It was the only thing I could think of to say. I blinked to try to clear my head. My arm was throbbing. I felt hot nausea sweep through me. Then everything went black.

"Ow!" I pulled on my hand. Once again it was stuck, but this rock was a lot more stubborn than the last one. In fact, when I tried to pull back it yanked hard on my arm.

"Great. This will be easier for both of us if you just conk out again." Johanna had an iron grip on my bad arm. She was sitting cross-legged, her sleeves rolled up, wearing surgical gloves and cleaning my skin with some sort of antiseptic wipe. I was lying on the floor, with my legs propped on something I couldn't see since I was covered by a blanket. I even felt a pillow under my head. This was all puzzling, but it led back to the bigger question.

"What are you doing here?"

"Surgery."

"How did you get here?"

"Climbed. Now shut up with the questions. I need some info from you. Where's the rest of your squad?"

"Shine and Marik are dead."

"Shine set the charge?"

"Yeah. . . . How the hell did you know that?"

"Tell you later, if you're good. Where's the president?"

"The president and her goons are with some of the squad. Trapped in the offices behind a ton of rock."

"Who's with them?"

"Ow. What are you doing?" She had some tweezer things out now. She seemed to enjoy making me flinch.

"Just pulling out a metal shard. Want some morphling? I like you better unconscious." Before I could answer, she went back to the questions. "Who's with the President?"

"Redstone, Mercurius, Asher. Asher's got a broken leg."

"How do you know?"

"I'll tell you later, if you're good."

"Never mind. Thirsty?"

"Yes." She handed me a canteen and I took a long drink.

"You need to drink all of that and another one before we take this communicuff off of you."

"What?" I asked as I kept drinking.

"The communicuff has to come off so you don't lose your hand. But first you need to drink all of that to prevent crush syndrome."

"Crush syndrome. Will that make me lose my hand?"

"No. The lack of circulation will do that. The crush syndrome will kill you."

"Great. No need to sound so hopeful."

"Here, take these." She handed me two little white pills.

"What are they?"

"Just analgesics." I had no idea what she was talking about. She enjoyed that. "Painkillers. They won't do much. Just take the edge off. And help with your fever. Take them. I've already given you some antibiotics. Those should help, too."

I didn't have much choice. I needed to get rid of this foggy feeling in my head. So I took them with the rest of the water.

"Give me that," she said holding her hand out for the canteen. She grabbed a bottle of water, poured it in, then added a tablet.

"This tastes funny. What did you add?" It would be just like Johanna to poison me, although it would be a waste of all the work she'd already done.

"Out of arsenic. Its baking soda. Still preventing crush syndrome. Just drink it."

"How much water do we have?" I asked as she gave me back the canteen.

"Plenty. I have a stash down here." I raised my eyebrows, questioning as I drank more salt water, but she just opened a new wipe and started cleaning some sort of tool. Asher had been right about someone sneaking around down here.

"Is that where you got the blanket, and the pillow?"

"No. I broke into one of the resi units with a door charge."

"Not a good idea to be blowing things up down here right now," I pointed out.

"It was just a door charge. No more impact that when you hit the floor. If you don't like it, you can give back the blanket."

"What's that?" I asked, changing the subject. She was done cleaning my arm. I checked it, but in the dim light it seemed pretty clean.

"Wire cutters. A bolt cutter would be better, but I don't have one. This should be good enough. Ironic injury though."

"What?"

"I'll show you later. Give me your arm back."

"Tell me why you're down here first."

"Smart. Holding your own arm hostage. So die of infection. See if I care." She glared at me and I gave her my arm. She was obnoxious, but she was right.

She started turning my arm looking for a way to use the wire cutters. It hurt every time she moved it, but I clenched my jaw.

"No sign of compartment syndrome. Yet. That's good."

"When'd you become a doctor?"

"Lots of first aid training, with a little extra focus on digging idiots out of rubbish," she snapped. "This is gonna hurt." She dug the wire cutters in under the communicuff, scraping into my skin. I remembered that her preferred weapon was an ax.

"Wait. Let me do it."

"No way, Pretty Boy. You'll just faint again."

"I won't." I couldn't. She would enjoy it too much. She frowned, but handed me the wire cutters. I pulled my arm back and sat up to get a better view in the light from her headlamp. "So – why are you down here?" I wanted some distraction while I worked on this.

"I'm with I.I. Well, I was. Now I'm AWOL."

I stopped. "What?"

"I.I. Maybe you've heard of them. They've sure heard of you. Be still." She wiped my bleeding lip off with one of her wipes.

"Ow! Do you have to do that?"

"You'll be even more of a baby if you get infected. You look like you were in one hell of a bar fight."

"Shine used my face to set off the charge," I muttered. She looked slightly surprised but didn't ask for any more detail.

"Here. You need this." I held still again as she rubbed some kind of lotion onto my face. It hurt at first, but then felt great, cooling. "Burn cream. You got toasted."

As I slowly cut away the communicuff, stopping every few minutes to breathe deeply before digging in again, she told me her amazing tale. I decided that I was still delirious. Or she was just messing with my head. I was having trouble processing her words while I focused on my arm.

"Damn." I kept catching the skin below in the wire cutters. Of course, that was part of the reason I wanted to cut it off myself. I could feel where the wire cutters were. But it wasn't helping much. On the other hand, at least I didn't actually enjoy causing myself pain.

Johanna was busy taking stuff out of a huge pack she had.

She turned over her shoulder. "By the way, Katniss says 'Hi.'"

I looked up at her again. "Don't mess with me." I was never going to get this Communicuff off if she kept playing with my mind.

"No. She's here. Up top. Saw her this morning. I was her welcoming committee when she got off of the train. I sent her to help Beetee."

"Beetee? Why Beetee?"

"Because at the moment he is one of only two people that I trust up top."

Suddenly I remembered that there had been only one person I knew I could trust in my squad: Marik. I closed my eyes. I needed to focus. I would think about him later.

"What's wrong?" Johanna pried.

"Nothing." I went back to work. I was making slow progress. Katniss was here. That meant that if I could get out of this hellhole she was waiting. It also meant that I needed to come out alive. But I already knew that.

"How was she?"

"Just peachy. Do you want to see why your injury is ironic?" I looked up at Johanna. "Of course, once I show you this I'll have to kill you, but I'll probably end up doing that anyway."

She turned her left hand over and started messing with her own wrist. Strange. Then I saw that there was a green glow coming from under her skin.

"What the . . ."

"See you have a communicuff embedded in your arm. I had mine implanted." She was pushing buttons on it, through her own skin. "One of the perks of I.I. It's a bit more subtle that the clunky things you wear. Now, for the fun."

"What fun?" I needed to get back to work getting this thing off of me, but I was transfixed.

"I have a feeling that there is someone else down here with one of these. It's time to find out."

She spoke into her wrist: "This is Delta-Oscar-Victor-Echo. Station check. Over."

We waited. I stopped with the wire cutters. I had just about given up when we heard a strange mechanical voice: "Delta-Oscar-Victor-Echo. This is Whiskey-India-November-Golf-Sierra, otherwise known as Seven. You are 5 by 9 in the ear. What the hell are you . . . ."

Johanna hit a button, then put one hand over her ear. Apparently she had decided this call would be private. I wondered who it was since a huge smile broke out on her face and I would swear that I saw pink under her black face paint.

* * *

**Thanks again IrishLuck19 – say "hi" to Algernon for me.**

**Thanks again to all my readers, and extra thanks to the reviewers. Love to hear from new folks, but I wait anxiously to find out what my regulars think: Alwayssmile8, GirL0vesDoom, wisdomgoddess26, katieg343, GaleKatniss, Allie, MnLrock, DreamReaderGirl, Solaryllis, XanimexotakuX, MsRXS, RipredtheGnawer, KidsinLovex and Melafield Kitty**


	25. Trusting

**AN – In case you've forgotten how this whole fanfiction thing works: I am not Suzanne Collins. I do not own the Hunger Games books or any of their characters, settings, plots, etc. Just to clear that up.**

* * *

**Trusting**

I turned away from Doc and Chervil and started to pace. I was not going to lose it here. I saw both Walker and . . . the married guy, whose name I could never remember, glance over, attention attracted by my frenzied motion.

I took a deep shuddering breath. I still couldn't trust my voice but I walked back over to them. We didn't have time for hysterics.

Chervil put his hand on my arm and gave me a smile. I knew he couldn't possibly be that calm, but if he could fake it maybe I could too. "We figure they're already working on getting themselves out. They're not gonna sit there and wait. We just need to do what we can to clear the way up here."

"Which might be more of a problem that it should be." If Chervil was being light about things, Doc couldn't have been more somber: "This whole thing is massively screwed up. We've been trying to figure out who we can trust and coming up with hardly anyone. But Sarge trusts you, so we do."

It didn't seem to matter to them that I was the famous Mockingjay. Only that they knew Gale trusted me. How much could I tell them? And how much did they already know? They trusted me, but could I trust them? Did Gale trust them? He did before, but things had changed since he got back. And even though she'd tried to back off of it, Johanna had thought there was another spy in the Squad. Who? But I was going to need some help. I could at least find out what they knew: "What do you mean 'massively screwed up'?"

"When we got up we tried to go to Onyx, to volunteer to help get them out," Doc explained.

"We're the experts on the lovely L5," Chervil interjected.

"We couldn't get to Onyx. They wouldn't let us do anything. They sent us all to Medical, but we're fine. I offered to certify everyone's Fitness For Duty, they wouldn't let me. I wanted to rappel down into the Pit, bring some medical supplies, water, a two-way radio. They won't even listen." Doc's hands were clenched into fists as he spoke.

"The Nut is a circus of paperwork monkeys. They're filling out the correct forms for an explosion and following some book that says to run an oxygen line down through the Pit." Chervil shook his head and I remembered Gale's dislike of the guy in charge of the Nut.

"If that's even what they're doing," muttered Doc. Chervil shot him a look that said not to say too much. But Doc met his eyes and went on. "There's one other thing you should know. That night, right after the explosion, we were sitting around in the dark. We didn't want to waste our headlights. It was completely, horribly quiet. The fans were down, the rumbling had stopped. And we heard . . . a yell. Not like calling to us, just like . . . I don't know . . . frustration, anger, something. We tried answering back, but we didn't hear anything else. . . . We think . . . we think it sounded like Sarge."

"But when we were up on the Surface," Chervil took over, "I heard two of Onyx's guys saying . . . no way anyone had survived down there. I told them, well, I called them some colorful names. . . . I told them what we heard and they didn't care. They just said something about there being all sorts of weird noises down there. Like we didn't know what we heard. Like we couldn't tell a human voice. Like Doc said, massively screwed up."

"You're sure?" I asked without thinking.

"We're sure it was someone."

"What can we do? What can I do? Do you have a plan?"

"We're working on it," said Chervil. "We . . . ." He looked at Doc and ran his tongue over his lips. I knew he wasn't sure how much to trust me. "We have some ideas about how to get into or out of the Nut, either get them out or at least get some help to them. We have a map, but we need a better one. We need one that shows the mechanical and everything. And we need to know who we can trust."

"The only ones I trust are Brighton and, maybe, Beetee." I paused. Why hadn't I said straight out that I trusted Beetee? Was he was just too busy to bring him in on any other plans? Or was there more to it than that?

Johanna. I did trust her. At least to want to get them out of the Nut. But I couldn't tell the Squad about her. Not yet.

"I might be able to get a good map though." I remembered Johanna had said to get a map from Beetee. Surely he would have the most detailed technical maps. "How about if we meet back tonight? I'll try to bring a map."

"2200 work for you?" asked Chervil.

"Make it 2300. I don't want to leave the lab too -"

"That's too late," Doc interrupted. "I need to get down there soon. The first 24 hours are critical, after that . . ."

"Doc," I couldn't tell him too much, but I had to say something. Before he just went charging down there. "Don't worry about that. . . . Someone's already gone down, brought some water, some light, some basic meds."

They both stared at me intently. Finally Doc asked "Who?"

I shook my head. "I can't say. But they've gotten some help."

He took a deep breath and blew it out. "Okay, so we'll focus on helping them get out. 2300 will work."

"Be careful. You know this whole Base is buggier than old meat left out in a swamp," said Chervil with his mischievous grin.

Doc let out a heavy sigh. "I hate that they can watch us, listen to us, but we can't find out what they're up to."

I was just about to leave when a thought hit me. I was pretty sure the little bag I'd filled in District 12 was still at the bottom of my duffel. "If someone had some of those little cameras, or the microphones, could they be set up, be used?" I knew Gale had said someone on his squad was great with things like that. Was it Chervil? Both Chervil and Doc leaned in to talk to me.

"You can't take their bugs or else we'd just take them all out. If you mess with them, an alarm goes off and they deactivate them. Then deactivate you." Chervil was shaking his head.

"No, I mean devices from somewhere else, not from the Base."

Doc answered. "You'd need their serial numbers. Then you'd need to get onto a computer, log in the serial number, activate it. If anyone ever checked the active numbers they'd see a new one, but who knows how often they check that sort of thing. Why? What do you have?"

"Could you get to a computer? Get them to work?" If any of these guys was really a spy I was giving them something they could use against me here. But we needed to know what was going on. And they seemed genuinely concerned about the rest of their squad. They were trusting me. I'd have to trust them, at least a bit.

"Brighton lets me use his. If you've got something we can use, you're my hero," Chervil's eyes were bright with excitement.

"Think about where we could use them. I'll meet you here tonight and bring what I can."

* * *

As I walked back to Beetee's lab I was trying to decide where the bugs would be most useful. I was startled out of my thoughts by Julina calling "There you are!" She ran down the sidewalk towards me. "Come on. Beetee thinks they're just about to break through, to get the communications going again."

My heart leapt and we hurried back to the lab, adrenaline racing through me. I was afraid to even hope, but if I could only talk to Gale, hear his voice, know he was okay. Had the squad been right? Had they heard him yell? Why had he yelled? Was he hurt? Or just mad?

We jumped back into our numbers with real enthusiasm, at least at first. The lab was buzzing with excitement and I was eager to do something that would help. It was hard to tell though if what we were doing made any difference, but keeping busy kept me from going insane.

After a couple of hours we heard a single loud profanity from Beetee and then the lab fell silent. Julina looked at me with wide eyes. That was strange for Beetee. It couldn't be good. I got up and looked out the door into the lab.

There was obviously something wrong. People were walking out, slamming doors, looking dejected. The lab was emptying as workers left to actually try to remember where their rooms were.

Beetee was lying back in his usual chair, his glasses pushed on top of his head, his arms hanging limply, his eyes closed.

"Beetee?" Julina called quietly.

"Hmmm," he answered then opened his eyes. "It didn't work. I sent everyone home to get some sleep. We'll have to try something else tomorrow."

"What about you?" asked Julina. "Are you just going to sleep here? You look beat."

"There's no point going all the way to my quarters," he muttered. "But I guess I should grab a cot. My back'll hurt if I sleep here." He sounded like that had happened before. I didn't doubt it.

"Good night, ladies," he said as he shuffled off. He seemed so different without all the nervous energy, no fingers flying on the keyboard, no hands pushing back his hair incessantly. I tried not to think about how close I'd thought we were to finding out what was going on down in the Nut.

After he left I realized that I hadn't asked about the map. "Shoot," I said out loud.

"What's wrong?"

"I was gonna ask him where they keep the maps, but I can't bother him with that now. I wonder how long it's been since he slept."

"You don't need to bother Beetee. They're in one of these drawers somewhere. You try that one, I'll try this one." Without hesitating Julina knelt on one side of Beetee's work space. I took the other. She didn't seem to think he would mind.

The drawers were filled with files of computer code, a foreign language to me. I skimmed quickly through the first drawer, then started on the one below it. I noticed that this one still had a key in the lock, but it opened easily. Maybe Beetee just stored his keys there. I didn't have to examine anything closely. Anything intelligible to me, like a map, would stand out in the jumble.

At the back of the drawer something caught my eye: a file with my name on it. Suddenly, I felt guilty, but I had to know what was in that file. I looked over at the cot room's door. It was pulled shut, but not all the way closed. I took the file out and opened it. It was not computer jargon, but sketches of a gun. I saw page after page of sketches, in Beetee's light, meticulous hand, of a gun with an exaggerated sight scope. I skimmed through it, sure that I was only understanding part of what I saw. He had designed a gun and named it after me.

I glanced back into the drawer to see if he had named weapons after anyone else we knew. No. The other files had more normal labels, although all were in a larger subsection labeled "Special Weaponry": "Voice-Activated Weapons," "Body Armor Blasters," "Retrievable Trident." Then I saw a file that made my stomach turn: "Two-stage Bomb Arrays." Without thinking, I pulled it out and opened it. My heart clenched in my chest. I tried not to think of Prim. If I did I knew I'd fall apart.

This file wasn't in Beetee's handwriting. These were Gale's sketches – quick, strong, dark. I closed my eyes. This was nothing I hadn't already known. I looked at the page again. Across the bottom, in Beetee's careful print, it said "This is a terrible idea." I frowned and tried to remember back in District 13, when I first heard of this idea. Had Beetee disapproved? I didn't remember him saying anything like that.

I heard a noise behind me and jumped.

Julina. I put the files back where I had found them and closed the drawer. Her questioning face told me that she knew I had found something. I stood up and she wordlessly held up a map.

"Staying to do more data entry?" Beetee asked from the door to the cot room. I flinched away from him and took a step back as he approached.

"We just needed a map," said Julina. "Can we take this one?" She held out the map to him and I took a breath while he was distracted. I felt like he would be able to tell what I had seen just by looking at my face.

"Just leave it on my desk when you are done with it." He gave me a burning look and for the first time in a long time I remembered watching his Games. Beetee had killed with calculating precision and never a glimpse of regret. I started for the door and Julina followed.

"Good night, Beetee," I said, trying to sound as normal as possible. As we reached the door I heard the small click of a desk drawer being locked.

"You okay?" Julina asked.

I just sighed. I couldn't tell her what I had found. Even outside, away from the bugs. I didn't know her well enough to explain everything. I wished Gale were here. He'd understand that I didn't want that gun named after me. And maybe he could explain Beetee's note on his sketches.

We went back to our room. I dug the small sack with the cameras and microphones in it out of the bottom of my bag. I bit my lip and looked at Julina. "I, um . . . need to go . . . out."

"Out?"

She looked at me. I had a feeling that tonight she was beginning to lose her wide-eyed Capitol innocence. She knew I was up to something.

"You shouldn't go alone," she said timidly. If I did need a bodyguard, she wouldn't be my first choice.

"I'll be okay." Too bad I didn't have my bow and arrows with me. I did have my knife. Just in case.

* * *

As I approached the back of the auditorium I saw a lone figure waiting for me, no guards. Something wasn't right. I ducked back behind a building and watched him for a while, trying to see who it was. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I could see that it wasn't Doc or Chervil. He was pacing. He turned and the light hit his face. I was almost sure that he was one of the soldiers who had been with them earlier, the married one. I still couldn't remember his name.

But he was in Gale's squad. I came out from behind the building and tried to walk casually, so that if anyone else saw me I wouldn't raise suspicion. When I was even with the back of the building I turned abruptly and went over to him.

"Katniss." He gave me one nod in greeting. There was a pause and he must have realized that I didn't know his name. "I'm Groves. Doc said you had something for him." He held out a hand.

"Where's Doc?" I tried to sound unconcerned, but the more I looked at him the more it was clear that he was agitated. Even in the darkness his eyes seemed red, his hand shook.

"I'm the only one who could get away." His voice was ragged.

I needed to get these things to Doc and Chervil. What other choice did I have? I handed him the map and the bag. "We need to set another meeting. For tomorrow."

He was already turning to leave. He ran his hand roughly over his face. "I don't know. I don't know who can come. I don't know when. We can try 0800, on the way back from breakfast. I think they'll let us have breakfast." He sounded flat, hopeless.

"What's going on?"

"Nothing. Someone will be here."

"I'll be here." I watched him as he walked away, one hand clinging to the map and bag, the other pinching his forehead, rubbing both temples at once. I'd been getting better at observing people, but I still had no idea what to do when someone was obviously upset. He seemed to be grieving. I hadn't noticed him acting like this earlier today. What had changed? "Wait," I called to him.

I saw his shoulders move in a sigh. "What?" He sounded sure that I was about to give him bad news.

"Are you okay? What happened?" I didn't even know him. I had no right to pry. Or maybe I did. I was trusting him to help Gale. I needed to know what was going on.

In seconds he was inches away from me, speaking in an angry whisper. "I'll tell you what happened. They've called us all in for questioning. And the questions they are asking – they're not good."

"What do you mean?"

"They're not looking for information. They're looking for someone to parrot what they want us to say. They asked all these questions about Sarge – how violent and uncontrollable was he? Had he ever attacked anyone in the Squad? Why did he hate the president? Weird stuff. Sick stuff. Then, when I gave the wrong answers, that bastard said to me . . . ." He silenced himself and bit his lip.

I put my hand on his shaking arm. "What? What did he say to you?"

He looked at the back of the building. I could see a vein pulsing in his neck. "He said he needed a good witness to come to the Capitol with him. If I was a good witness I could come and bring my family. At first I didn't understand, then he said 'If you bring your family we can get a doctor to fix your baby's heart. Can't be done in District 7.' Then I knew what he meant."

"What did you say?" I felt cold, like ice water pouring down my back.

"I told him . . . things I can't repeat to you. I'm not going to the Capitol."

"Thank you." It sounded horribly small. Could I have done that if it was Prim?

"They're setting him up. They're gonna kill the President and pin it on Sarge."

"Why?"

"I don't know. We have to stop them."

"How?"

"I don't know. Maybe Doc or Chervil or Brighton will know. I don't. I've gotta get back."

"Your baby – what's wrong?" Again I was asking a question I had no right to ask.

"He's gonna die. My little Birch is gonna die and it'll be my fault."

"He needs a heart doctor?"

He nodded bleakly.

"I know a good one. He'd come out to 7. He'll help you."

"Is he from the Capitol?"

I nodded.

"Then I don't want him near my family. They're monsters."

"No. He's not. Some of them are. He was Peeta's doctor and he was good. There was another doctor who wanted to do horrible things, but not Dr. Adrian. Do you have paper? I can give you his number now. I had to call him a lot."

He looked at me and his eyes were shining. "Tell me the number. I'll remember it." He repeated the number to himself as he turned and walked away.

I was a few feet away when he called out "Hey, thank you," then disappeared around the corner.

* * *

Later, as I lay in bed I tried to make sense of it all. But I couldn't get past the terror that it had never ended. The Games went on and there was nothing I could do to stop them.

I wondered where Gale was. Was he hurt? Thirsty? Alone? Had Johanna found him down there? As well as I knew Gale I'd never spent a night in his arms. Then Johanna's words about the noose came back to me. In my gut I knew she was telling the truth and I hated her for it. Because she was there when I wasn't, because she knew a part of him that I didn't, because I would never stop owing her for saving him. The thought of a noose in Gale's hands stole the air from my lungs. And he never told me. He would've been gone forever.

But I had been with Peeta. I couldn't regret that. My stomach lurched as I wondered if I was being punished, if Gale was being punished too, because I was a horrible widow, not even out of mourning and falling into his arms. Part of my brain said "no" – who would be punishing me anyway? But part of me knew this was all my fault. I could picture Peeta's frown if he could hear me thinking like this. He hated it when I let my thoughts spiral into weirdness. He would pull until I told him what was wrong, then help me see how silly I was being.

Except that he wasn't here. There was no one here to talk to, no one to bring my crazy mind back to earth.

And I was back to missing Gale. I lay in bed yearning to talk to him about all of this, wishing for his touch, his warmth, clutching the useless communicuff square in my hand.

* * *

I slept fitfully, my nightmares full of coal mines, fire, guns, and darkness. I woke before dawn to see Julina sitting at the desk holding something small up to the light.

"Sorry, this was on the floor by your bed. Is it yours?" Julina held the small plastic square out to me.

"Yeah, Beetee says it's shot."

She looked at me, wide-eyed and confused. "Let's go get breakfast," was her only reply.

I showered quickly, hoping that would at least give me the appearance of being well rested. On the way to the mess hall, Julina took my elbow.

"Beetee must not have gotten a good look at the circuitry. I think I might be able to replace the broken wire. Do you want me to give it a try?"

"Absolutely." I was afraid to get my hopes up again, but I pressed the square into her hand.

I didn't eat much breakfast. There was a _Panem Circus_ lying on the table where we sat down. I wanted no part of it, but Julina picked it up. "This is so sweet about your cousin."

"What?" I couldn't think of anything about Gale's predicament that could be called 'sweet.'

"Look." She handed me the paper. The headline screamed: "_Mason Goes AWOL to Join Hawthorne Down Deep in the Dark_." "I was hoping that they'd get back together. They make such a handsome couple."

I tried to smile and nod, but only managed the nod. I set my fork down and decided to head over to my rendezvous early. I told Julina I had to meet someone and agreed to see her back at the lab. As I walked toward the auditorium, it occurred to me that Julina hadn't asked what the plastic square was. Had she known? Or was she willing to try to fix it whatever it was?

There was no one there. I sat down in the grass and waited.

The worst thing about that headline was that now everyone knew where Johanna was. How had they found out? Johanna was right. It was impossible to be paranoid enough around here.

No one ever came to meet me. At 0830 I gave up and went back to Beetee's lab. Julina was already entering numbers.

"Shall we get back to work? Let's get a few more of these done before we take a coffee break." She suppressed a smile. I could only hope that it had something to do with the communicuff square.

My head was swimming as Julina read numbers off to me. I was anxious for noon, for Johanna's signal, to see if she could get out of the Pit without being seen. I tried to ignore the senseless gnawing in my stomach. I was already jealous of Johanna since she was down in the Nut, being useful, with Gale. And now, maybe she was being more than useful. No, of course not. The _Panem Circus_ was trash. They just made things up. Except they were right about where she was. How did they know that?

"I'm dying for some coffee. How about you?" Julina's eyes were still sparkling.

"Absolutely."

We were almost to the mess hall, back door as always, when Julina grabbed my elbow and steered me in the other direction, behind a warehouse. The weeds were tall and once we sat down we were almost covered by them.

"I think it'll work. I couldn't test it because I don't know any call names. But I did connect it to an old communicuff so you have a keyboard to use."

She was sitting cross-legged, bouncing up and down with excitement.

"So you did know what this was? How?"

She looked quickly around, even though we already knew that we were alone. "We had a neighbor in the Capitol. They always brought me stuff fix since I was good at it. One day he brought me one of these. He wouldn't say what it was for, but I figured that out myself. I wouldn't give it back to him until he showed me how to use it."

"You know how to use this?"

"Sure. Do you know the call name you need?"

"Dove."

She explained to me how to convert the name into spelling alphabet code, and then where to punch in the call name to start. She helped me with the code for my own call name and the terms to use to start the call. My heart was pounding.

"Do you want me to . . . go?" she asked. I frowned at her. She had been so helpful, but I had no idea what, if I got a hold of them at all, Gale or Johanna might say. Better not to have anyone else here.

"I'm sorry. You probably should."

"I'll see you back at the lab." She left, still smiling over her electronic success.

I punched in "Dove," then pressed a small speaker key and said "Delta-Oscar-Victor-Echo. This is Alpha-Romeo-Romeo-Oscar-Whiskey. Radio check. Over."

I hunched as closely to the small device as I could and waited. I could hear the breeze in the grass in the silence.

Then "Alpha-Romeo-Romeo-Oscar-Whiskey. This is Delta-Oscar-Victor-Echo. You are 5 by 8 vocal. What took you so long? Over." It was Johanna. But what made my heart stop was the unexpected sound of Gale's beautiful deep laugh behind her voice.

I caught my breath. I couldn't remember what to say.

"Alpha-Romeo-Romeo-Oscar-Whiskey. Do you copy? Over."

"Yeah . . . uh . . . Affirmative. Are you okay? What's going on? Over."

"Alpha-Romeo-Romeo-Oscar-Whiskey. This is Six. How are you? Over."

It was Gale.

"How am I? How are you?"

"Alpha-Romeo-Romeo-Oscar-Whiskey. This is Six. I'm fine. A bit banged up. Delta-Oscar-Victor-Echo had to splint up my left arm, but I'm fine. I miss you. Over."

"I miss you, too. . . . Over."

"Alpha-Romeo-Romeo-Oscar-Whiskey. This is Delta-Oscar-Victor-Echo. Enough chat. I'm on schedule, but I'm coming out alone. No way Six here can make the climb with one hand. Pay attention. Four and Niner are dead. Niner set the lift charge. Six is the only one out here with me. The rest are blocked in. Oscar-Whiskey-Lima is in with them, with her crew. One's got a broken leg. Eight is fine. Seven's in contact with us. He is I.I. Two, Three, Five and Ten are on L3, should be out soon. Copy? Over."

I had only gotten bits and pieces of that. "What? I don't understand. Say it again." She did and I took notes in the dirt as she talked. I'd just have to get her to explain it when she came up. When she finished I said "I got it. What do you need me to do with it? Over."

"Alpha-Romeo-Romeo-Oscar-Whiskey. This Delta-Oscar-Victor-Echo. Take report to Echo-Alpha-Golf-Lima-Echo. Stat. Over."

"Copy. Over. Wait. I talked to . . ." I checked my notes in the dirt to get the numbers right. "Two, Three, Five and Ten. They're out. They want to help. Can I trust them?"

"Alpha-Romeo-Romeo-Oscar-Whiskey. This is Delta-Oscar-Victor-Echo. Yes. They're good guys. Wait. Over."

The silence went on until I began to wonder if she was coming back.

"Alpha-Romeo-Romeo-Oscar-Whiskey. This is Delta-Oscar-Victor-Echo. Six here says don't trust them. He's not sure of anyone. That's ridiculous; we have to have some help. We both agree Doc is solid. The others, you make the call. Oh, and Six wants you to call his mom. But don't blow our cover. You can't tell her you've talked to him. Copy? Over."

All I could think was '_I've hardly gotten to talk to him,_' but I said. "Copy. Over," then the transmission went dead.

I sat back on my heels, breathing as hard as if I'd been running. My head was spinning. He was alive. He was okay, laughing even, missing me. But my chest felt tight. I missed him more than ever. I clutched my arms around myself, but I couldn't stop feeling cold.

I looked at my watch – 10:55. One hour until Johanna's signal. She sounded almost ready to leave. And she said Gale couldn't make the climb. He was hurt, but he sounded so good. Of course, he wanted me to call his mom. What would I tell her if I couldn't say I had talked to him? That would have to wait until after I talked to Brighton, and got the signal from Johanna.

I studied my notes, locking them into my mind. "Owl" was Paylor and she was alive. That was good. "Eagle" was Brighton. I just had to find him now.

I started to leave, then went back and, like a good little spy, erased my dusty notes with my foot.

I went to look for Brighton, but I couldn't find him anywhere. Not in his office, not in the auditorium, not in the mess hall. He must be down at the Nut. As I passed the phone outside the mess hall I realized that I had just had enough time to call Hazelle. It couldn't take long since there wasn't much to tell her. But there was no answer: the phone rang and rang. I gave up and headed to the Nut, wondering if I could do anything right today.

I stopped by my room and grabbed my hooded cloak. The less I was recognized, the better.

I was glad I had it when I reached the chaos outside of the Nut. Outside of the security perimeter there were hundreds of people, press, cameras, lookie-loos. They had roped off a smaller area for families. I wondered if I counted. With a jolt I recognized Hazelle and the kids. They'd come. Old habits died hard. I headed down to talk to them.

Hazelle pulled me into a tight hug as soon as I saw her. I was surprised to feel Rory's arms around both of us. Vick joined too, holding Posy up. I was sure Johanna's warning had been for the phone only so, as we were all clutched together, I whispered "He's okay. I talked to him an hour ago. He hurt his arm, but it's splinted now." Hazelle's tired eyes grew wide. "He wanted me to call you. I tried, but . . . ."

"I'm not home." She started to ask me "How did you . . . ?" but I put my finger to my lips. She didn't understand how dangerous this whole place was.

"I can't tell you. I . . . ," then I saw a figure in gray fatigues with short white hair walking swiftly toward the security entrance: Captain Brighton.

I gave Hazelle another quick hug and said "I'll be back." Perfect. I had just a few minutes before I needed to watch for Johanna's signal. I ran and caught him just before he reached the gate. "Sir!" Once I had his attention I whispered in his ear: "I have a message for you." He pulled me aside, glancing at the guards' shack inside the gate. He must have thought the same thing I thought: it would be bugged. Better to talk out here in the open.

I repeated the message word for word. He made me say it twice. "How long ago?" he asked.

"An hour. Do you understand?"

He nodded. "Can I ask how you got the message?"

I reached into my pocket and flashed the square, still attached to the communicuff, at him. His eyes widened. He looked at me intently. "Could I have that?"

My stomach lurched. It was my connection to Gale. But it would do him more good in Captain Brighton's hands than mine and I trusted Brighton. I passed it into his palm, my own fingers flinching, wishing I could hold onto it.

"Have my secretary call if you want to talk to me," he said. I'd be able to get updates from below that way. "Oh, and there's something for you in my office."

"What?" I shouldn't have asked.

"I can't discuss it here. Just stop by as soon as -"

The ground shook. I almost lost my balance and grabbed Captain Brighton's arm reflexively. His head jerked toward the Nut.

A cloud of smoke? dust? something was rising from the front part of the Nut, the part that collapsed during the avalanche. There was a deep rumbling, crashing sound as bits of broken concrete fell into the hole. A gasp went up from the crowd, some screams intermixed.

Captain Brighton, his face white, rushed to the security gate. I ran back to the Hawthornes, not sure what I could do, but hold on to them and worry.

Then I remembered . . . Johanna. Could all of that have been the distraction she was waiting for? But she was supposed to climb back out of the Nut, through that hole. Was she there when it collapsed? I watched for her signal for the next hour.

But it never came.

* * *

**Thanks so much for beta'ing this monster chapter, IrishLuck19.**

**And thanks to all of you for reading it. And double thanks to those who sent reviews:**

**Solaryllis, GirL0vesDoom, Jenn06807, DreamReaderGirl, MountainAir, Heart the Squid, Katieg343, Analyn Ruse, Howlynn, GaleKatniss, RipredtheGnawer, ellenka (you are too kind), KidsInLovex, Allie (), AlwaysSmile8, iluvdinos, LittleRueFlower, Daydreaming Viking Girl**


	26. Darker

**AN – Still don't own the Hunger Games.**

**Darker**

"Hell's teeth, Johanna! Five minutes and I'll have this figured out."

"I don't have 5 minutes. In fact, you've already made me late. I need to time this right and get to the top of the Pit during Beetee's distraction or else I'm going to jail. The distraction, whatever it is, is at noon. I'm not missing it."

"Go then. Fine. I'll figure the maps out without you." I didn't even look at her as she left. She was so set on the plan she'd set up with Beetee. She wouldn't listen. Anything she could do up top, she could do more down here, but it didn't matter now.

After she was gone, I dropped my head into my one good hand and tried to rub the sting out of my eyes. Even with the light from my helmet and the flashlight Johanna had left, it was still dark as hell down here, and the faint blue lines on the old maps were hard to trace. I knew that I could find a way out of here, a better way than climbing up the Pit, but we couldn't afford any mistakes.

I decided to take a break. I had been rushing through this for almost an hour, comparing maps from different levels, trying to figure out which of the air vents we could use to climb out, trying to find the answer before it was time for Johanna to leave. But now, there was no rush. I sat back and drank some water, tried to eat one of the energy bars from the supply room.

But I felt sick. It felt wrong somehow that one of these vents was going to save my life – and the lives of everyone else still down here – when I was the one who had wanted to block them. I had wanted to suffocate everyone down here, as if the rest of the destruction I caused hadn't been enough. Sometimes I wanted to go back in time and find myself, throw the vicious kid that I used to be up against a wall and make him see how out of control he'd gotten.

I wondered if that's what my dad would've done.

I took another swig of water. I didn't have time to get caught up in crazy thoughts. There was too much to do, and with Johanna gone I had to get it all done myself. I forced myself to take another bite of the energy bar.

At least I was well supplied now. My left hand still ached, but Johanna had splinted it. As long as I could remember not to use it, it wasn't too bad. With her gone my communication with the others was cut off, but if they could pull off their part of the plan I'd be seeing them soon. Johanna had her issues, lots of them. But, as obnoxious as she was, I owed her a lot.

Once she'd quit giggling like a school girl over the voice in her earpiece, the news was amazing.

"Who's robot man and what's going on?" I had asked after she finished her silent conversation that had started with the mechanical voice.

"We get the robot voice because he can't talk out loud. So he punches in the words and we can get them vocal, in the earpiece or typed back. The earpiece is most efficient." And most private, but I didn't say that. I just waited for her to go on. "Mercurius. He's I.I., undercover. I wasn't sure, but I had my suspicions."

Mercurius was I.I.

I'd been living and working with an undercover I.I. agent and I'd had no clue. I'd even investigated him. No wonder his file had been wiped clean.

"Does he have an implant like yours?" How could I have missed that?

"Yep."

"Hell's teeth." I still couldn't believe her whole working through my squad bit had been an I.I. mission. They certainly had unconventional methods. "I guess all your careful investigation has paid off then."

"You're just mad because you accidentally provided me perfect cover. And because you missed out on the fun. But yes, it was an investigation and now I know more about your squad than you do."

"I don't think your methods would have worked as well for me. At least, I hope not. Any other spies?" I'd let her gloat if it would help us get out of here alive.

"Two spies on the squad not enough for you? At least Mercurius was spying for the good guys. But there's a termite in Paylor's office and it might be one of the ones in there with them. Merc is keeping an eye on them for now. We've got to find a way to dig them all out."

"We should take a look at it. There's a lot of rock. Can he tell if the walls are stable?"

"He's worried about that. He says the doorway's sagging, under a lot of pressure."

"They need to brace it somehow. There were always lots of extra wood beams around in the mines in 12 for that. None down here. Let's go."

We headed back toward the office. With better light we could make out the door to the office behind the pile of rock. Between the two of us we soon made some progress removing rock, at least from around the doorway.

They were still going to have to do some blasting to get out. Lots of potential for things to go wrong, but there wasn't anybody I knew who had a better chance of doing it right than Mercurius. We debated methods back and forth, through Johanna. By now he'd let the others in the office know that he was talking to us. He quit using the robot voice and they all joined the conversation. It was good to hear their voices, to know that they were alive.

We decided that they would use the office desks, turned up on one side, to brace the ceiling. They were big, metal desks, strong enough to hold it, at least for a while, but not quite tall enough, so the drawers would be pulled out and added on top until they reached the ceiling. Once again, it'd be good enough to hold while they got out. There shouldn't be anybody on L4 so if the ceiling collapsed after that, so be it.

Once we had the rock cleared, I went back to supply and got some body bags. Johanna thought it was a waste of time, but I wasn't leaving Shine and Marik out there. Sooner or later someone, maybe our squad, would come get them and it would be easier it they weren't buried under more debris from whatever explosions Mercurius was going to cause. Despite her complaining Johanna helped me move them. We left them in an empty resi unit and she even made a sign for the door: "Morgue."

Then we'd found some maps and took a lunch break while we looked over them. I was surprised when she told me it was only 1030, still morning. I'd really lost track of time down here.

"It doesn't make sense to try to climb back up the Pit. The whole base is watching and we still don't know who can be trusted." I wasn't sure what was the right way to get out of here, but the more I thought about it, that was definitely the wrong way.

"You're just saying that because there is no way you _can_ climb up the Pit. And you can't stand being left behind."

"I'm not the only one. Asher won't be able to climb, and who knows if it is safe enough for the president."

"But you think you can get up the air vents."

"Yeah – we can crevice climb." She looked at me quizzically. "You know, when you brace your back against one wall and walk yourself of up the other wall. Didn't you get trained on that in 13?" We'd worked on it again here in 2, but the first time I'd ever seen it done was way back in the mines in 12. And by using my legs more I'd be able to get by with just one hand. "Anyway, it's the best way to get up the air vent. Plus we only have to go one floor at a time. We can rest in the intake vents at each level, at least until we get above L1. That's why I am looking for a vent that doesn't go up too much further in the mountain past L1, but doesn't open right out into the Surface either."

"Asher's not going to be able to crevice climb."

"There'll be enough of us. We can lift him."

"But then we'll walk into a tracker jack nest when we get up there. We don't know who we can trust." Johanna gripped her chin and closed her eyes, frowning with deep concentration. "We've got to keep Paylor alive. Beetee thinks this whole thing might be the way to flush out the rats."

"We can do that better when our lives, and hers, aren't hanging by a thread. We get out of here and they can't do anything to us in broad daylight. Down here, they can kill us and no one will ever know."

"You just want to breathe fresh air. You think they can't get to us up there, you're kidding yourself."

"And you're the one who is in a rush to get up and get some of that fresh air right now."

"I want to go talk to Beetee, see what he has figured out." Johanna thought Beetee walked on water. She was sure he'd be able to figure something out.

"You trust him a lot more than I do," I said.

"I only trust two people up there, Brighton and Beetee. Are you saying Beetee's another skunk?"

"I don't know. I just think he's out to save his own skin lately. Don't forget Katniss is up there now too."

"The real reason you are in such a rush."

"Yeah, otherwise I'd be fine with just hanging here." I felt like I almost had her convinced, but not quite.

"How 'bout if I promise to send down some pizzas once I get up top?"

I had to laugh at how tempted I was by that idea. I could almost taste the hot cheese. Pizza was one of the many foods they had in 2 that I'd never had before and one of the things the mess hall did really well.

I saw a flash of green and Johanna flipped her wrist around. She pressed something on her arm and then I heard Katniss's voice coming from under Johanna's skin.

* * *

So Johanna had gone up top and would see what she, Brighton, Katniss, and Beetee could do from up there. Mercurius and I were going to get the rest of them out of here. I didn't want to mark up the maps too much, but I'd now tracked the best air vent down to Level 4. The question was - how would we get to it down here? It was on the other side of the Pit.

This was actually not my idea. Asher had been the one to insist that we have an exit plan, to look into how we could get out of here if something went wrong. And to know that there had to be air vents, that there was always another way out.

I heard a rumble and paused. Mercurius had asked us to clear the area. He thought they could be blasting in as soon as an hour, but that couldn't be them yet.

The sound grew, not a quick neat blast, but a slowly spreading avalanche, lots of rock, too much. I went to the doorway of our chosen resi unit. The noise was to the left, not right. Not Mercurius – the Pit. The Pit was collapsing.

Johanna.

I rushed into the hall then pulled back as a cloud of dust swept by. I grabbed my helmet, holstered my now-loaded gun, and went back into the hall. I pulled down the gas mask on the helmet as I ran into the dust. It would help me breathe, as long as there was oxygen somewhere in all of the crud. Every time I thought this hellhole couldn't get any worse, it did.

The Pit, or what was left of it, wasn't far. Johanna had been gone for 10-15 minutes. Was it enough time for her to have climbed up into the gap? Not enough time to have gotten to the top. I stopped to listen for her, but heard nothing over the still tumbling rocks. Whatever had caused the collapse was over, but the whole thing was unstable now. I moved blindly through the mess, checking with my feet to make sure that the ground below each step was still there.

"Johanna!" I called, hoping she could hear me over the rumbling.

"Damn it!"

I moved toward the voice until I could make out a black-clad figure sitting on the ground.

"Stupid frickin' rocks!" That was Johanna.

"You okay?" Her head jerked up and I could see a huge crack in her helmet. Better her helmet than her head.

"Just flippin' peachy!"

"Come on, we've got to get out of here."

"Let's go," she said, then fell over as she tried to stand up. "Oh, damn it!"

I pulled her up, put one of her arms over my shoulder and helped her limp down the hall. She must have been hurting since she took my help.

Once we got back to the resi unit she sat down. "Alright, now it's my turn to be your nurse," I said.

"Great. Now I'm a felled oak for sure."

I ignored her and took off her helmet, showing her the gash in it. "How's your head feel? That had to be a big rock."

"Yeah. I didn't even see it coming. I'd just started climbing, then everything was loud and it hurt and I was back on the ground."

The back of her shoulder was ripped and bloody. The rock must have bounced off of her head and then hit her there. "Try to lift your arm. How's it feel?"

"Like my skin's ripping off," she said, but she lifted her arm. It must not have damaged the bones.

"What else hurts?"

"My ankle. I must have landed on it." I tried to rotate it, but she jerked it back.

It took a while, but I got her shoulder bandaged and her ankle splinted. She said it was just a sprain, but it seemed like a bad one. She complained a lot, but I ignored that and other than her insults and foul language she cooperated.

"Still trust Beetee?" I thought she would have put it all together by now, but she must not have since she looked up at me with a start.

"What do you mean?"

"The Pit hasn't moved in a year and it suddenly collapses during the 20 minutes you're supposed to be climbing out. Nothing suspicious there?"

"I . . . I must have dislodged something."

"How many times have you climbed in or out before today?"

"I don't know. A dozen?"

"But now you dislodged something, just a few feet up into your climb? Nope."

I saw a flashing green light on, well, _in_ her wrist. She held her hand up to her ear. Another private call.

"I'm fine," she finally answered. "Mostly, fine. Bumped up a bit, had to let Hawthorne splint my ankle, but I don't think you can die of a bad splint." She could be answering her call silently, but that wouldn't be any fun.

"That's what Gale said." Mercurius probably agreed with me about Beetee. "By the way, weird thing. Just after everything went boom I got a message from up top, from Eagle: Horse. . . . No kidding. How soon until you guys are out?"

By the time she got off we had the beginnings of a new plan. Johanna finally agreed that going back up through the Pit was a bad idea. But she had a theory that we could get to the vent I identified by going down near the Pit and over on L6 to the vent. When I asked her how L6 was she just shuddered. This should be fun. Mercurius said it should be a couple of hours before they were out so we decided to see what we could find in that time.

As we headed back toward the supply room, I asked her "What was that bit about the message from up top? Who's 'Eagle'?"

"It's not good. 'Eagle' is Brighton. Somehow he had Katniss's communicator. But 'Horse' is the code for communicator going into unfriendly hands, don't trust it any more. Not a good sign."

"There goes our chance to figure out what's going on up there." I sighed. Not only did we have to get out of here, but we had to be ready for anything when we reached the top. And somehow keep the president alive. I was glad that Paylor was a soldier herself. We'd need all the help we could get.

I looked over at Johanna and realized that she was packing an arsenal, and she'd already put on body armor. "I guess we're not travelling light."

"Just being prepared. Look, L6 hasn't been cleared. The detention cells are down there . . . and the labs."

"What labs?"

"I haven't gone in them yet. I'm not sure what they were for, but I don't think they were looking for a cure for cancer. We need to be ready – for unexploded pods, for booby traps, for mutts, for whatever."

I'd taken my body armor off. It was just too hot down here to wear that stuff if I didn't need it, but I slipped the shirt back on and began strapping on the arm and leg guards. Then I began packing. I included some ammo, door charges, detonator tape, and tools, both for climbing and for taking the fans out of the vent. And food and water. I wasn't going anywhere without enough supplies again.

"You need to get a new helmet," I told Johanna. "Your old one is shot." There were a couple of spare helmets in the supply room. She found one that fit close enough.

We looked over the map of L6. The air vent I wanted to use led into a furnace room, just behind the labs. We needed to check it to make sure it hadn't collapsed when we bombed the Nut, or today when the Pit caved in. I folded up the map, slipped it into my pack and we were ready to go.

The Pit was a mess, loose rock everywhere, although at the moment nothing was collapsing, blowing up or rumbling around. Johanna was trying not to limp on her splinted ankle. "There was an easy way to get down to L6. Let's see if it is blocked now."

She led the way to the old elevator shaft, down a hallway I hadn't seen, just off of the Pit. Up above the shaft has collapsed, but the section between L5 and L6 was still clear. Johanna tied off her rope to a rock she'd obviously used before, clipped onto the rope and was one story down in seconds. I was a little awkward with only one hand, but if she could do it with only one good leg, then I could follow. We left the rope there. We weren't planning to be down there for long.

Somehow L6 seemed even darker, although I told myself that L5 was pitch black. It's impossible to be darker than that. But the air felt closer, the ceiling wasn't as high, and there were smells much fouler than coal.

"What's with the smell?" I asked Johanna. She was probably the only live person who had been on this level since the avalanche.

"Labs." It was a weird chemical smell, on top of the usual coal mine and death trap aromas. I pulled down my gas mask. Couldn't hurt. As Johanna pulled her mask down, her hands were slightly shaking. She'd never say so, but something down here was making her tense. "There's no resi units down here. Just some offices, then detention."

We made our way silently through the hall, passing a couple of skeletonized bodies. I wondered why they had died, apparently just running down the hall. Most bodies were found crushed under rock. No time to think about those unfortunate souls now. We needed to make sure we didn't join them in their tomb. We stepped through some puddles of water on the floor, but Johanna didn't seem fazed by them.

We passed the offices, then Johanna said "Detention. Don't look." Was she protecting me? I was tempted to go take a peek, mostly just to peeve her, but there was no time for that sort of thing. "Why?"

She shivered in response. "The cells are pretty full. They don't look like they went happy."

"You mean they starved?"

"No." She didn't say any more. Damn. Brighton's son was in there. I wondered if he was the only kid or if there were others.

Johanna stopped abruptly outside of a door. "Here. We need to go through here." Her shoulders clenched. She took a deep breath and willed them back down.

She must have used a door charge before, since the doorknob had already been blown off. I waited for her to open the door. When she didn't I reached around her and pushed it open.

Then I knew why she was acting so strangely.

It was an interrogation room. Like the ones we had both been in in the Capitol, although she'd spent a lot more time there than I did. Same bright white paint, but here most of it was covered with some sort of smoky residue. Same metal table, restraints included, in the middle of the room. Same gray floor, wet with dank water. My heart sped up and I forced myself to swallow.

"Come on," I said, but she gave a barely perceptible shake of her head and stayed frozen. "You coming?" This time she turned and limped briskly back down the hall.

I followed her. "Johanna, what's wrong?

"Can't do it," she said in a brittle voice.

"You've done this before, in the block. It won't take long. You can do it."

She gave another tiny shake of her head. "At the block. They didn't understand. It wasn't the same. They made me walk over live wires, but that wasn't the same. I didn't care."

"It's the water, isn't it?" I remembered Katniss telling me about her fear of water. "There isn't much of it."

"But it's just the same. Just like . . . after they . . . just a thin layer of water left after, on the floor. I thought they were done. And then they zapped me with it, again." Her breath was rapid as she stared off into the darkness. Her arms were crossed and I could see her nails digging into her own skin.

"Come on. We'll take it slow. You can do this."

She squatted down and began rocking back and forth, her eyes clenched. By now I could hear her breathing, coming fast and shallow. My words were just making her worse. She hated pity. The water was getting to her bad enough that instead of snapping at me when I tried to help her she was shutting down. That wasn't the Johanna I knew.

I needed to think of something. We didn't have much time and I needed her help. Plus, if she really lost it - if she panicked and started running down here - that would be a nightmare. I needed to try something different.

"Johanna," I barked and I pushed her, hard enough that she fell over from her squatting position. "We don't have time for this garbage."

She sat on the floor staring at me, then her eyes snapped with anger.

"What the . . . you jerk." That was better. That was Johanna. But she still wasn't on her feet.

"I don't have time for all of your weak female stuff. Pull yourself together."

"I saved your damn life, Pretty Boy. I'm not the weak female here."

"Then quit your whining and let's go."

She got to her feet, glaring at me, but then her eyes began to dart around, looking for a way out. Not good. She needed to be too mad to think, too mad to be scared. I took my pistol out of the holster. "You watch this. I am taking the first round out and putting in a rubber bullet. It won't kill you, but it will hurt like hell. The second one stays in. It will kill you. You march in there right now or I _will_ shoot you."

I'd kept my gun aimed down, but she grabbed it by the barrel and forced it towards the floor. "You frickin' creep! Don't even think about pointing that gun at me. I'm not trading my first round out for a rubber one. You put that thing back in your holster and keep it there or we'll have a quick draw contest and you'll be going upstairs in a box." She grabbed her pack from the floor, slung it onto her back, and stomped toward the interrogation room. She slammed the door open. It made an echoing metal clank as it hit the wall behind it. Johanna was across the wet floor before I could catch up to her.

She didn't pause as she rushed through a lab with several white-coated skeletons on the floor. The noxious smell made me pull my gas mask down, but Johanna kept going. Either the air wasn't poisonous or she was too mad to breathe. Either way worked.

It was nice when we could get along, but it wasn't necessary. She wanted to get the president and my squad out of here as much as I did. And she wasn't going to shoot me any more than I was going to shoot her.

The adjoining room was some kind of storage room. The shelves were full of nearly spherical metal shapes. _Bombs?_ I wondered. No, unexploded pods.

This room was more dangerous than the armory. One of the metal cases was open on the floor. Whatever had been in it was gone now. Maybe it had killed the scientists in the next room. I tried not to wonder whether any of them were filled with chemical death that would eventually eat through the metal casing.

Johanna was walking more softly now. She knew how dangerous this stuff was. Once we were out the door on the other side of the room, I shut it behind us. I let out a breath I hadn't meant to be holding when I heard the '_cush_' of the door's airtight seal. We'd need to go back through later, but I felt better with that door closed.

Johanna slid to the floor and started rubbing her ankle. All of her stomping must have hurt. She activated an ice pack from her bag and I went to look for the vent. I found the furnace room without too much trouble. I was glad it wasn't locked. It would be better not to use any door charges near that storage room.

The vent shaft was there. I almost cheered out loud. I aimed my flashlight up into it, to the side of one of the fans. It was clear as far as I could see, probably 4 floors or so. There were huge fans between each level which we would have to take out as we went. As I tried to get a better look at the closest fan to decide what tools we would need, I felt a rumble somewhere far off in the Nut. We would have to wait a bit to find out if that was Mercurius and whether he had gotten them out.

I went out of the furnace room. "The vent looks good. We'll need some bolt cutters, screwdrivers, duct tape, rope . . ." I was thinking out loud and pulling things out of my pack. Johanna didn't answer. I pulled the map of L6 out of my bag to see if there was a way around that storage room. The more people who tromped through there, the more likely something would go off.

Hell's teeth. The room wasn't even on the map and there was no way around it.

Johanna's wrist flashed. Her hand flew to her ear and I could tell she'd been as anxious as I was to hear from them.

"They're out. On their way. They want us to meet them by the elevator shaft. If we shine our lights up through it, it'll be easier for them to find."

"Do you want to wait here?" I asked.

"Of course not," she snapped, as though there was no reason to think she might not want to go back through the interrogation room, not once but twice. And when we got there, she didn't even hesitate. Was she still mad? Or had she realized it was easier if you didn't give yourself time to think?

Johanna kept up the world's fastest limp as we went past the detention cells. "By the way, Merc says the President wants to have a little conference once they are all down here. He thinks she's going to deal with her bodyguards, you know Tweedle Mean and Tweedle Mum."

"What's she going to do? Is one of them the snake?"

"He doesn't know. But he wants you and Redstone to keep an eye on Tweedle Mean, that's the lady. I'll help him watch Tweedle Mum. We have them outnumbered. We're not going to let either one of them pull anything."

"Fine. But by this time they'll be getting desperate."

"I know. Do you have 'cuffs with you?"

"No."

She handed me a pair of handcuffs from her belt. I pocketed the key.

"Be ready to use them."

* * *

**As always – IrishLuck19's help is amazing. Always the perfect comments.**

**BTW – I've revised the Prologue. It gets so many hits and it was just weak.**

**Thanks for reading and reviewing: GirL0vesDoom, zebrapirate, Smileyface Devil, Howlynn, Harryfan626, EchoDeltaNine, cattastrophies, haymarkers54, NotYourAuthor(I'm blushing after your enthusiastic review), Heart the Squid, KidsInLovex, Solaryllis, GaleKatniss, April 25, Ripred the Gnawer, alwayssmile8, XanimexotakuX, Daydreaming Viking Girl, WisdomGoddess26, iluvdinos and tina.**


	27. Igniting

**AN – FYI – Don't own Hunger Games, Catching Fire or Mockingjay; or any of the characters, settings, problems, weapons, evil maniacs or other stuff from them. **

**Igniting**

"Isn't that the man you were talking to? Brighton?"

I couldn't stop staring at the dusty mess that had been the Pit. The words "_This isn't good_," kept repeating in my mind. Hazelle nudged me out of my semi-catatonic state and pointed back up toward the gate and the guard's shack.

There was something going on up there, a bunch of men in a blue uniforms surrounding a figure in gray fatigues. I stood on tiptoe to get a better look, then wished I hadn't. They were turning and I could see Captain Brighton's hands cuffed behind his back, a soldier gripping each arm as they marched him away, toward the jail where I no longer needed to look for Johanna.

I slumped back down and forced myself to deepen my panicked shallow breaths. It was happening so quickly. My allies were going down faster than I could react. I almost expected to hear a cannon boom as each one was taken out – Gale, Johanna, Brighton, even Doc, Chervil, Walker and Groves had disappeared. Everyone I talked to, everyone I trusted, everyone I needed.

I glanced over at Hazelle, Posy's head on her shoulder. I needed to get away from them. I couldn't hide here without putting them in danger.

"I've got to go," I announced, even though I had no idea where I'd go. Before I could move Hazelle pulled me into a hug.

"Don't give up. They're going to be okay." I knew she was saying that as much for herself as for me. I nodded mutely. She had no idea how much danger Gale was in. Once again I felt Rory's arms around both of us.

"Let me know if there is _anything_ I can do to help," he said into my ear.

I could barely look at him. He looked so much like Gale now, same height. He'd kept his hair short, not quite military but close. His shoulders weren't as broad as Gale's, but he was no longer a skinny boy. I gave him another silent nod, then rushed away, not trusting my voice.

I hurried toward the lab. If only I had my bow and arrows, if only I could handle these enemies so easily. I felt like I was back in the Arena – no, worse. This was like that last frenzied drive into the Capitol, my friends all killed, insane, or dragged away from me by Peacekeepers. I expected the fireballs any minute. All alone, I tried to focus on what I needed to do as horror after horror happened around me.

I felt the old pain in my left temple, from way back when Johanna knocked me out as the Quarter Quell exploded into chaos. I stopped and pressed into it with my palm, trying to push away the ache. I realized that I was crouched down, my elbows on my knees, trying to hold myself together, trying to disappear into a ball.

_My name is Katniss Everdeen Mellark. I am twenty years old. Gale is trapped in the mine – in the Nut. Johanna is probably dead. Brighton has been arrested. I am all alone. I need to get Gale out of that mine. I need to keep them from framing him. I need to . . . ._

This wasn't helping. I didn't know what it was I needed to do. I looked up at the gray buildings, the gray stairs, the gray sidewalk.

Then I saw a burst of yellow. Pushing up through a crack in the sidewalk, standing confidently, was a dandelion. Even here, in District 2, surrounded by unrelenting concrete, there it was.

I still didn't know what I needed to do. But I wasn't alone. And I was stronger than they thought I was, stronger than I thought I was.

I stood and walked back toward the lab.

Halfway there, I saw Julina. She was marching toward me, her face strange, full of an anger that looked unnatural on her.

When she reached me, she thrust a copy of the latest _Panem Circus_ at me and demanded "What in blazes is your cousin up to?"

"He's not my cousin," I said as I glanced at a picture of a menacing Gale on the cover. I just couldn't stand the lie any more.

"So you're disowning him too?"

My head jerked up. "No, no. Nothing like that. None of the stuff they write is true. He's never been my cousin."

Julina's head pulled back with a snap. "You . . . you never told me. I thought . . ."

"I'm sorry. I should've told you. But at first I didn't know you, then I didn't think it mattered."

"Of course, it matters. If he's not your cousin, what is he?"

"He's my . . . ." What – Boyfriend? Lover? Whole world? "He's my best friend. We need to talk."

She followed me to the back of the auditorium. We sat close together in the grass and I told her. All about losing our dads, meeting in the woods, hunting together. Fighting the Capitol together, how he helped save Peeta. Then about the bad stuff. The bomb that killed Prim. I just keep going when I told her that part, knowing that if I paused over Prim's name I'd fall apart. I told her how much I'd hated him. How Peeta had wanted me to call him, but I wouldn't. Then about last week. Had it only been a week ago? It felt like an eternity away. What Brighton had said about not letting anyone know that we were together. About talking to him this morning. I even told her about the theory that someone was trying to frame him, with Johanna, for killing the president, although I didn't say who'd told me that. It wasn't my secret to share.

Once I started, it all rushed out. I had been living such a lie, trying to pretend that part of my mind wasn't down there in the mine with him every minute of every day. Wondering what was going on, what he was doing, wishing I could touch him, be with him, help him somehow.

When I finished my story, I looked at Julina for the first time since I had started. Her eyes were wide with disbelief. This was a girl who was shocked to find out that everything in the _Panem Circus_ wasn't true. Finally, though, I had to ask: "So what do you think?"

She let out a sigh and her eyes slid from disbelief to pure puppy innocence. "I think you are his only hope."

I buried my face in my hands. Of course, she would turn this into a sappy Capitol soap opera.

But she wasn't done with me. "I'm serious," she said. "He's with the president, and all those soldiers. I bet they can take care of themselves; they'll get out somehow. But they don't know what's going on up here. This is a war with the _Circus_ and you're the only one who can take them on." She held the newspaper out to me again.

I frowned. She saw everything in such simplistic terms. Then I read the headlines on the cover of the newspaper:

**Hawthorne & Mason – Plotting to Kill the President?**

**Super Spy Mason – Out of Control **

**- Under Cover in District 2**

**- From Spy to Assassin?**

**- Abandoning Duty for Love?**

**Hawthorne's Criminal Trail**

**- Convicted of Theft in 12**

**- Rebel Weapon Mastermind?**

**- Psychotic Episodes After Capitol Escape**

**- Thrown in Jail in 2**

**- Breaking Shoulders in 4**

The whole paper was about Gale and Johanna, turning them into some sort of dangerous assassin team. All of Panem would think that's what they were. And there was just enough truth in it to make it plausible.

"Does it still need to be a secret? That he's not your cousin?" Her question startled me. I looked up and started to answer, but found nothing. Before no one was supposed to know before that Brighton was suspicious, that he wanted Gale back because something was going on. But he'd been right. Something, something horrible, had been going on. And he'd played right into their hands. Now he was in jail. There was no reason to hold onto this secret.

"You're right. I need to stop these lies."

"Can I help?" She was giddy. I let out a deep breath.

"Maybe. I have to run pick something up. Meet you back in the lab?"

She willingly agreed and waved as she jogged off. I wasn't sure if it would still be there, but Captain Brighton had said that there was something for me in his office. I needed to stop by and see if I could find it.

As I entered, Brighton's secretary asked "Are you authorized to visit?"

I tried not to look confused and went with my planned answer: "Beetee sent me," and she waved me in.

I pushed open the door and saw four faces jerk towards me. I was glad my back was facing Miss Agate as I couldn't hide the shock on my face. Doc, Chervil, Groves and Walker were gathered around Brighton's desk.

"What . . .?" I closed the door quickly behind me.

"We're being punished for insubordination. We've been confined to Brighton's office. It was his idea," said Chervil with a grin. I looked around and saw blankets and pillows stashed in the corner. Apparently, they were sleeping here.

"We've crashed in much worse places than this," added Doc.

Then I remembered. They needed to know. "He's been arrested. Brighton."

Doc let out a huge sigh. Groves folded his arms and turned toward the window. Walker and Chervil didn't seem surprised. "He thought that was coming. Sooner or later, they'll remember us up here and throw us in jail, too."

"What're you guys in trouble for?"

"Not being good witnesses," said Doc, his face hard.

"Brighton's punishing you for that?" My gut fell. If Gale had been wrong about Brighton . . . .

"No, no, no." Doc shook his head vigorously. "He knew we were in trouble and this way we have access to . . . ." He gave a slight head jerk toward the computer.

"We need to make the best of the facilities then," Chervil added, then came around the desk to Walker. "I told you to clean up your damn stuff."

"You're not my mother!" he yelled.

I was completely confused. I looked at Doc and he motioned for me to come around to the other side of the desk.

"Ignore them," he muttered as he typed away on Brighton's computer. It took me a few seconds before I realized that their on-going argument was providing noise, cover for Doc to talk to me. "We'd already put up some of the bugs around the Surface, Groves even got one outside Onyx's office. I think we've got them going. We can't watch through any of them from here; they'd be able to see what we're doing. But I did check the list of active cameras. I'm glad you're here because I saw something strange."

In a voice as low as his, I asked "What?"

"All the cameras and mikes in the labs were disconnected."

"When?"

"Ten days ago." He glanced up at me, then went back to work. "You game to put some new ones in?"

I nodded.

"Here." Under the desk, he slipped a small bag into my hand. "You know how to get these to work?"

Holding a mike in his cupped hand, so that it was shielded from everything but my view he showed me which side was sticky, the small button to activate it. Then he did the same with the camera, showing me how to pull the paper off of the back, stick the shiny sheet to anything, activate it by pressing the slight bump on one side.

"Just stick it on top of one of the old ones. Then no one will notice it. These are the most important locations. I've already got the serial numbers. And we put in new batteries."

"Thanks. What else have you guys been working on?" I gestured at the map spread out on the desk, hoping they had figured out something about what was going on below.

"We think they'll come out of one of the vents on the south side of the mountain. Don't know what we can do to help, but watch for them there. I wish we had someone who could be there when they come out. To warn them about the garbage going on up here. You know anybody who could go?"

I shook my head. Our allies were so few and most of them couldn't leave the Base.

"Any idea when they could get out?" I asked.

He looked at me with pity in his eyes and I realized that was a stupid question. "It depends how bad the mess is down there. Could be any time, no way to know. If we can get out of here, maybe we can get over there."

I couldn't see that happening, couldn't see any way we could warn them. I needed to change the subject. "Are you guys doing okay? Do you need anything else?"

"Just need to get our guys out."

"Do you know a girl named Julina? Short, blond with stars all over her face?"

"I've seen her."

"She's gonna help me. I'm gonna . . . " Doc stopped me with a finger to his lips and a quick shake of his head. He glanced up at the others in the room, still arguing over nothing. I drew in a small breath as I realized he didn't trust someone here in the room with us. My hand went up to my temple and I rubbed it.

Doc went back to the computer, but I realized he was writing a note with one hand, while looking at the computer screen. "These are where we've put mikes. See if you can think of anywhere else we should put them," he said, as he pushed the note over to me.

_Can you announce loudly that before he was arrested Brighton told you the president was dead?_

I gave him a single, small nod. Gale and Johanna thought I should trust him, so I would. Then I took the pen from his hand, and pretended to study the computer screen while I wrote:

_Do you trust Rutilus?_

He frowned and shrugged. Then he held his hand out for the pen and wrote:

_Test her. Ask her if she thinks anyone is alive down there._

I nodded, remembering that she had been with them when they heard someone down in the Nut. Doc folded the note carefully and pressed it into my hand. "Destroy this," he mouthed.

"I've gotta get going," I announced loudly. "Oh my gosh, I forgot to tell you. Just before he was arrested I talked to Brighton. He told me . . ." I let out a sigh for dramatic effect. "He told me he'd talked to them, below, and the president is dead."

"Great," said Doc in a flat voice. "Let's just hope they don't find that out or they'll probably stop the rescue attempt altogether."

Was that what he wanted?

Outside I stopped and leaned up against a wall. I needed to destroy Doc's note. I tore it into little bits and ate it while I tried to figure out what to do first.

I needed to find Rutilus, test her. No idea where to start there. I had to get these mikes and cameras put up in the lab. That was going to be tricky, but Julina could help. Could I trust her to keep her mouth shut? Maybe for now, but if someone came after her she'd break like glass. Was there any reason to try to visit Brighton, maybe get the communicator back? No – they would have searched him.

Who was behind all of this, who was the Gamemaker now? I remembered hanging the dummy of Seneca Crane. At least I knew who the enemy was then. But it hadn't felt simple at the time. And technically I knew who the enemy was now – anyone who didn't want to get them out of that mine alive, anyone who wanted to pin crimes that hadn't happened on Gale. And Johanna.

I smiled to think how annoyed Johanna would be if I saved her neck.

Once I got back to the lab, it'd be a while before I could get away. Better to find Rutilus first. Where would she be? The auditorium seemed to be her natural habitat. Cameras and all.

I peeked into the auditorium, almost expecting to see Rutilus still standing at the podium on the stage. But the podium was barely visible, having been pulled off into the wings and echoes of the door shutting rang down the aisle as I entered. They weren't here. I turned and went back out into the hall.

I paused there. I could hear voices, angry voices, from somewhere. I set off toward them, keeping my footfalls quiet so that I wouldn't interrupt whatever was happening. These were Capitol people. They were probably fighting over what to wear to lunch.

The sound came from a room across the hall from the backstage door.

" . . . in front of this story. We're letting the papers run away with it." A male voice I didn't know.

"What good would another press conference be? Onyx can do another statement, but he's not exactly riveting. Who else would you put up there?" That one was a squeaky female voice, not Rutilus.

I risked a peek into the room. Half a dozen people sat at a table, eating lunch. I could smell the sandwiches. It'd been a long time since breakfast. The two arguing had their backs to me. I could see Rutilus's red hair at the end of the table. I moved to be in her line of sight and waited, hoping for her to glance up at the door.

She looked terrible, exhausted. Her eyes were swollen and shot through with red, staring blindly at the middle of the table while she poked at a salad.

"There's our answer," said the male voice. I looked over and saw that he was looking right at me with a predatory grin. Oops.

In seconds they were surrounding me, clucking about how I was the way to steal attention away from the papers. I managed to grab a sandwich and soon Rutilus and I were the only ones sitting at the table while the others gathered, plotting, around a whiteboard. As excited as they were to see me, none of them particularly minded if I chose lunch over their little meeting.

I scooted over a chair so that I was next to Rutilus.

"How's it going?" I asked her.

She smiled weakly. "It's been a long couple of days."

This was my chance. "Do you think that anyone's alive down there?"

Rutilus's eyes lit up, bright with fear. "I need to go to the ladies' room."

I didn't get at first that she meant for me to come with her. When she got to the door, she looked at me and I got it. I wrapped the rest of my sandwich up and stuffed it in my pocket, then followed her. She headed down the hall, then stopped outside a door marked "Utility." There was a loud humming behind the door; for all I knew this could be the other side of the fans outside. Whatever it was, it gave us the noise we needed.

"Yes. Someone's alive. At least they were. There've been more explosions down there since noon. I hope they're all still alive. But I have no idea how, or if, they're going to get out." Her voice had fallen to a slow whisper. She clenched the back of her neck. "I tried so hard to make this visit safe."

"They know what they're doing. We need to trust them to get themselves out and make sure that they aren't walking into an ambush when they get here." I sounded so sure I almost convinced myself.

"But it _is_ an ambush," she said.

"Will you help me shed some light on it, in the press conference?"

"You can do unscripted?" She bit her lip. I could almost hear her wondering if I was worth the risk.

"That's all I can do."

"We can't let . . . they can't know what is coming. The others, they just want to scoop the papers. I don't trust them."

"Okay. I just want to tell everyone what's really happening."

She clenched her eyes shut, trying to pull her own mind together around this idea.

"What do we have to lose?"

She gave a quick nod. "It can't get much worse." She looked me in the face; it was like she had woken from a daze. She was suddenly brisk and efficient. "You'll have to just go along with whatever they tell you. Before you go on, I'll give you a short list of points you have to hit. Then we'll have to wing it."

We started to head down the hall, but then she touched my elbow and motioned me back. "To do this right we need backup, a print article ready to go as soon as the conference is done. I know a reporter, from the _Oracle_. You might not know it. It's a new paper, trying to compete with the _Circus_. His name's Veritas Delphi. He's solid. Will you talk to him?"

"Okay, but I've got to get back to the labs for a little bit. Finish up some things there."

The rest of the afternoon was a rush of activity.

I didn't dare to make a paper list of the things I had to do. So I just kept going over things in my head: what to say in press conference, get back in time for interview, find Julina and rebug the lab.

"Nice of you to join us," someone muttered as I walked in. It wasn't Beetee, but I went over to him to apologize anyway.

"I'm so sorry. It's crazy out there. They want me to do another press conference." He'd liked the idea earlier, hopefully he still would.

"That's fine. There's not too much data entry left anyway." He barely glanced over his shoulder as he nervously pushed back his hair and went back to work.

I went into the office with Julina. She jumped up and gave me an eager hug as I awkwardly patted her back.

"What now?" she whispered.

I looked around for something that could make noise, cover our conversation. Then I remembered the mikes and cameras were down. At least here, at least for now, we weren't being listened to. I pulled the door to the office shut and explained to her as much as I could.

Her eyes sparkled. This was a thrilling game to her, but at least she was eager to help. In fact, it was her idea to see if we could get the _Oracle's_ reporter in to talk to the boys in Brighton's office. It was worth a shot. Then I told her what I needed her to do to help me get the camera up and she was ready to go.

We went back into the labs and offered to do a coffee break run. While we were going around, asking people what they wanted from the kitchens, I stuck the 3 microphones in the locations that Doc had suggested, or as close to them as I could. The one that made my heart thump like I'd been running for my life was right near Beetee's desk. I acted like I couldn't hear him when he gave me his order, which wasn't hard to do since he tended to mumble, and leaned on his desk. I slipped the mike under the desk with my right hand when I knew he wasn't looking. I felt bad spying on a friend. I told myself that if he turned out to be okay these mikes would just prove his innocence.

Meanwhile I'd spotted the camera just above his desk, in the corner of the ceiling.

When we got back from the kitchens, Julina took Beetee's coffee over to him. I knew this part would be hard for her. She'd spent so much time trying to show everyone that she wasn't a klutz. But it turned out that she was quite the actress.

"Oh, no! I'm so sorry! Here, let me clean that up for you."

Beetee's work was too important to actually spill coffee on his keyboard, but she'd spilled it right next to it, on the right side, away from where I needed to work. The couple of people who worked in that office came rushing over to help.

I set down the things I'd brought from the kitchen, pushed a wheeled chair over to the corner, jumped up on it, then up onto a filing cabinet. I slapped the new camera onto the old one, forcing myself to slow down and set it exactly on top of it.

Just as we'd planned Julina was the one who looked up and called out "Katniss, what are you doing?"

Now I had to act. Surely after all that time on the Victory Tour I could be convincing for just a few seconds. "Oh my gosh, what is this? Beetee, there's a camera thing in this corner."

The moment of truth – would Beetee believe that I was naïve enough to be shocked by that?

Apparently so.

He smirked. "Don't worry about it, Katniss. They're everywhere." He didn't mention that the cameras had been disabled. Either he didn't know or he didn't want everyone else to know. Didn't matter for now. As long as he bought my surprise.

I jumped down. In a few minutes Julina and I were back at work, distributing coffee and pastries to hungry lab rats. We went back into the office and actually finished the data entry. It didn't take long since Julina had gotten most of it done earlier. I think she got done faster without me interfering.

Then we went out to the office and told Beetee that we were heading down to get ready for the press conference. He didn't even question Julina going with me; he was probably relieved not to have to her around spilling things on his computers.

In the hall outside of the auditorium we saw Rutilus in an intense conversation with a tall slender man, clearly from the Capitol. His face was tattooed with orange and yellow flames, his hair dyed to match, so that it was difficult to tell where his skin ended and his hair began. His short hair stood on end. Combined with his height, the effect made me think so strongly of a matchstick that I had to bite my lip to keep from saying something stupid.

"Katniss," Rutilus turned to greet us. "This is Veritas Delphi." I shook Veritas' hand, then took a moment to realize that they were looking at Julina expectantly.

"Oh, this is Julina. She works with me in Beetee's lab."

"I'm Mica Rutilus." She shook Julina's hand with her usual smooth smile. She glanced into the room where the others were still meeting, then motioned with her head for us to follow her. As I expected, we were soon behind the auditorium, standing close to be heard over the noise of the fans. Rutilus pulled me aside.

"Veritas just wants to ask you a few questions for his paper. Are you ready?"

We quickly went over the main points that Rutilus wanted me to mention, then Rutilus left us for the interview. Veritas worked efficiently, taking notes with squiggly symbols that I couldn't decipher.

After about 45 minutes of questions and answers, I leaned back and pressed my palm to my temple.

"Thanks, I think that's about all I need although, of course, I'll be here for the press conference, too." Veritas seemed very pleased with the interview, his eyes glowing as he finished his last notes.

"Wait." Julina had been sitting silently just behind me. "Would you like to interview some of Hawthorne's squad?"

I had almost forgotten about that idea, but apparently Julina hadn't. "I can't take you over now," I said. "I gotta go get ready."

It was Julina's idea for them to stop by the kitchen and pick up some meals and drinks, then get into Brighton's office under the guise of delivering dinner. I could only hope that they could pull it off and that the boys would still be there.

"I'll see you after the press conference then," I said and was surprised when Julina grabbed me and gave me a tight hug, before bounding off to the kitchens with Veritas.

Back in the prep room everything was a flurry of activity. I was handed a prepared speech and told to practice reading it, but I knew I wasn't really going to give this speech. Add to that the fact that they had someone fixing my hair, and someone else doing my makeup, and for some reason I couldn't concentrate. They finally gave it up and sent me off to change. I had a moment of longing for Cinna, not just for his wonderful clothes, but more for the calm he gave me before I faced the cameras.

Rutilus found me in the dressing room.

"That's a great color on you," she said and it took me a moment to realize she was talking about the red blouse I was putting on. It couldn't have been the white suit, since white isn't really even a color. "We're thinking about taking this press conference outside – where the families and the press already are. You okay with that?"

I nodded absently. It wasn't until we were on our way over that it began to occur to me how much more chaotic things could get out here. In 12, people always just waited quietly for the mine to be evacuated. Here the crowd was rumbling. Maybe it was because these people weren't used to being patient; maybe it was because there were no Peacekeepers roaming around with guns to remind everyone to be patient. It could even have been because some suspected they weren't really doing everything they could to get them out. But the mood was different. Ominous.

I was glad that I had slipped my gray sweatshirt on and hidden in the hood. I glanced out into the crowd and my heart clenched for a moment.

There was Gale, just standing there.

I didn't realize that I had stopped walking until someone ran into my back, nearly knocking me over. By the time I looked back I knew that it wasn't Gale. It was Rory, holding Posy. I closed my stinging eyes, angry with myself for hoping. Then I thought of something.

"I'll be right back," I said to Rutilus, who had just caught up to me. Before she could answer I darted off into the crowd to find him. Luckily he was tall so I didn't lose him in the throng.

When I got to him, I quickly pulled him aside, trusting that the hubbub around us would prevent anyone from hearing.

"Do you still want to help?"

He nodded eagerly. "Anything."

"We think they're gonna get out on their own. Come up through some vents on the south side of the mountain. I need you to get over there, watch for them, warn them about what's going on up here."

I didn't have much time, but I sketched out for him how someone was trying to frame Gale and Johanna. His eyes widened, but he didn't say anything. I told him about the rumors that the President was dead, not mentioning my part in spreading those rumors. He went over to Hazelle and whispered a few words in her ear, then gave her a hug and headed off in the direction I had shown him. I grabbed her quickly myself. She looked at me with questioning eyes, but I just shook my head. I didn't have time to explain.

As I headed back over for the press conference a wave of guilt swept over me. Had I just sent another of her sons into danger? What if something happened to him?

But there was no time to think about that. A temporary platform had been set up in the parking lot just behind the crowd. They were starting. Onyx was speaking. A bunch of garbage about how this had moved into clean up mode, that there was very little chance that there were any survivors at this point. He was either a traitor or an idiot. Maybe both.

I found Rutilus and she guided me up to the stairs. Onyx finished his statement, apologized for not having time to take questions and stepped down without looking at me.

I found myself staring out into a thousand faces in a colorful crowd.

"Good evening. I think it's time for an end to business as usual in Panem. It's time someone started telling the truth. I'm going to start by saying that I'm sorry for the lies I've told; I'm sorry for the lies I've let others tell you while I said nothing. Now it's finally time to let you know what was real, what was unreal and what really happened."

* * *

**Happiness is waking up in the morning and finding an inbox of reviews, then discovering that one hardy soul read this story all night long and reviewed every chapter!**

**Thanks so much to IrishLuck19, who finds the time to beta for me even while coping with a summer internship and major presentations.**

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	28. Arrested

**Arrested**

Redstone was the first one down. He grinned at me as he unclipped from the rope. I grabbed him into a hug and slapped his back. "Good to see you." I'd known he'd made it, but I guess I didn't really believe it until I saw him.

He must have felt the same way. "So you're alive."

"Mostly."

"You ready?" he asked as he gestured to his holstered gun.

"Got 'cuffs too. What's the plan?"

"Don't know. Just follow Paylor's lead. And keep ready."

Asher was lowered down next. His face was pale, but he still gave us a huge smile. "Sarge. You're a mess." I'd almost forgotten the scrapes and burns on my face. The fat lip I remembered. Add that to my splinted arm and it was no wonder Johanna hadn't called me "pretty boy" lately.

"Look who's talking," I said. Besides the broken leg, his neck and face were scraped and burned, too. He didn't look much better than I did. I helped Redstone catch him and detach him from the halter they had rigged up. It included an old ladder they'd cut in half somehow, which Asher used as make-shift crutches once we took the whole thing apart. They were big and unwieldy, but he got around pretty well with them. The way they had rigged him up looked to me like it was solid enough to use to lift him out. The only question was whether it was too big for the fan vent.

"Horrock is next," said Redstone looking at me, then added in a lower voice "Tweedle Mean." I nodded and put my hand on my gun to let him know that I'd gotten Mercurius' message. I didn't want to say too much since she could probably hear us by now.

As she reached the bottom she acknowledged us with a nod, then detached herself from the ropes. If she noticed we were watching her, she didn't say anything about it. Redstone and I stood behind her on either side. She was tall and completely filled the close quarters of the lift shaft. But she moved with the fierce grace of someone you didn't want to mess with. Tweedle Mean fit her.

"The President is on her way," she announced, in a voice that was obviously used to making pronouncements like that.

I wasn't sure what the correct protocol was for greeting a President as she rappelled down an old lift shaft. Luckily, Paylor didn't seem concerned about that sort of thing. As soon as she was down, Horrock stepped forward to help her, but she shook her head and detached herself.

Paylor walked over and greeted Johanna, then me as she shook our hands. "Mason, Hawthorne." Then she said "Batton is next" and looked at Johanna, reminding her that she was to keep an eye on him.

Batton, Tweedle Mum, seemed coiled for action as he landed. He wasn't as tall as Horrock and so far I had yet to see him talk or smile. Mercurius arrived with his usual infectious grin, but it wasn't half as big as the smile he threw Johanna. He sobered up quickly though.

Everyone was on edge as Paylor said "Now that we are all here, I have a few things that we need to go over. Our evacuation plan seems solid, and so far proceeding well. However, I have some security concerns that cannot be delayed." I saw the tendons in Horrock's neck tighten. I hated having only one functioning hand. I slipped my right hand to my gun. I knew Redstone didn't have handcuffs, but if there was trouble I'd need the gun first. I trusted Johanna and Mercurius to have Batton covered.

"The events of the last couple of days have shown an obvious breach of security, which I believe may well stem from my own staff." She looked bluntly at Horrock and Batton in turn. "Lacking time to fully investigate, I have decided that the most prudent option is to arrest both of you. Immediately."

That was my cue. We'd all been trained on the basics of making a combat arrest. Horrock didn't resist as I frisked her, then handcuffed her, but her whole body was rigid with anger. She turned away from Paylor, her face hard as granite. They'd been together for years, but I was glad Paylor was willing to upset old friends. This situation was just too dangerous.

Then a thought flashed through my mind – how would I feel if Brighton suspected me of plotting against him? I'd burn with pain and betrayal. And I hadn't known him nearly as long as Horrock had been with Paylor. Unless both Horrock and Batton were conniving, at least one of them was being unjustly accused. One way or another, no wonder she was livid.

And if she did want the President dead, she must know she would be more likely to get a chance to kill her down here than once we were all above ground.

I gave her gun to Redstone, figuring I already had my one hand full. Once Horrock and Batton were cuffed we set off down the hall, a freaky parade, led by a limping Johanna.

As we walked, I tried to figure out how we were going to get this whole circus up the vents and out. When we just had Asher we'd have to lift out that wasn't too hard to do. Now, Johanna was going to have trouble crevice climbing with her hurt, possibly broken, ankle. And I had no idea how we could keep the two bodyguards in custody while all making a demanding climb. My first choice would be to knock them out with morphling or something and just lift them out. I wondered if Paylor could be talked into that. Even then it'd be a lot of work. Maybe I could rig up some sort of pulley like we'd used in the mines. Couldn't anything be easy?

We were approaching the detention cells. I fought the temptation to pull down my face mask. The air was foul, but not poisonous, and I needed to be able to keep an eye on Horrock. Johanna held up a hand and we halted.

"Excuse me, Madame President," I couldn't believe that Johanna was capable of being so respectful. But in I.I. she worked directly for Paylor, and she must have thought very highly of her. "These are the old detention cells. If there are gonna be trials it'd be a good idea to get some photographs of . . . the cells, and . . . those in them. It might be a long time before anyone else is down here."

Paylor nodded. "Rutilus would usually be our photographer. But I believe there's an extra camera in Ms. Horrock's pack. Hawthorne, if you can get the camera out, Mason can be our new photographer."

I nodded and stepped around behind Horrock. Redstone came over and kept his gun trained on her. There were a lot of different pouches. I was glad I was right handed, but it was still awkward to unzip each pouch with only one hand. I used my splinted left hand to steady the pack as I pulled the zipper, but even that small amount of pressure caused my wrist to ache. Luckily, it was in the second pouch I checked, but then I had to use my left hand again as I awkwardly zipped it up.

Meanwhile, Paylor asked Johanna for a flashlight. In the dark, little could be seen by the dim light of her helmet lamp. Flashlight in hand, she stepped forward to peer through the small cell door window herself. I came around Horrock and held the camera out to Johanna.

Just then Paylor gasped and I glanced up to see a grinning skull just inches on the other side of the glass. She stepped back into me.

Horrock must have been waiting for a moment just like that. In an instant she spun, kicking Redstone's gun out of his hand, bashing her elbow against my splint.

Agony filled my mind and my eyes flashed blind. I turned toward her, but I couldn't see, couldn't make out anything. As my eyes cleared, I pushed through the pain and looked up into the barrel of my own gun. She grasped it at her side, her still-cuffed hands pulled around to her hip. She glared insanely at me and we all froze.

At least I was between her and the President. "Hands up, drop your guns!" she barked. I heard the sounds of guns thudding around me as I raised my hands. I wished that they had ignored her and just taken their chances with shooting her, but it was too late for that.

It was my gun. It was my job to stop her.

"Hawthorne, up against the wall." Instead, I took a small step toward her. I risked a glance at Johanna, willing her to guess what I was going to do and back me up. She moved her head slightly and I hoped that was a nod. It was all I was going to get. I took another step toward Horrock.

"Back up! Your body armor won't save you at this range." Her voice had a shrill quaver. Her eyes were wide and wild. I watched her carefully. But her hips weren't going to show me when she was going to move. All she had to do was put a bit of pressure on the trigger. I knew she would shoot the next time I moved, so I'd better make it good.

I took a deep breath and launched myself at her. The blast and the pain erupted as one. She caught me in my right side. Through the body armor I felt the impact smash into my once healed ribs. My right side was pushed away, but I twisted to catch her with my mangled left arm. I felt my forearm connect with the gun and, again, everything exploded into pain.

* * *

I heard voices in the distance and forced my eyes to open, my mind to take in the sound. Someone was fumbling with my body armor, trying to get it off of me.

". . . had Doc. Johanna, tell me what to do." It was Mercurius. Even in the dim light I could see that his face was white.

"Don't bother. He'll be fine." I looked over to see her sitting on top of Horrock, a chokehold around her neck. Mercurius' head snapped up to look at her with shock.

The air had been knocked out of me and I knew I couldn't talk yet. So I sat up and took a few deep breaths, hoping that would be enough to show him I wasn't dead. I still felt shaky and nauseous, but pretty good for having just been shot. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Paylor and Redstone flanking Johanna, all three of them now holding Horrock.

"We need the keys to these handcuffs," Paylor said to Mercurius. I dug them out of my pocket and tossed them to her. With every breath, the pain slid a bit, falling back to a heavy ache. I had to smile at Mercurius' face. He looked like he was about to faint.

"What the . . . . Since when are you bulletproof?" he gasped at me.

I couldn't quite speak yet. Johanna answered for me. "Since he put a rubber bullet in his gun. It was special for me."

I lifted my arm, slowly, to show him that my body armor wasn't dented. "Wrong gun to steal," I croaked.

"Damn, I thought you were nuts," said Asher.

I noticed a streak of blood sliding out from under my splint. I must've opened up some of the hundred cuts left from where the metal had been embedded. My arm was back to throbbing. I wiped the blood off on my pants and took the water Mercurius was holding out to me.

Paylor had removed Horrock's pack and was recuffing her. I watched to see if she did it differently. Had I put them on wrong? But from where I was it looked like she did it the same way I had.

Horrock snarled back over her shoulder at Paylor. "You bitch. Why wouldn't you listen to me? We should have just killed them all and not screwed around with those stupid trials."

She seemed to be laughing at us, scoffing that we hadn't just killed her. What was Paylor thinking? How were we going to get her out of here? But it was one thing to shoot her while she was attacking. It felt wrong to kill her now, now that she was back under control. Or was she? I'd thought she was under control before.

"Lea," said Paylor, her voice amazingly steady and smooth, "Don't do this. Don't throw it all away. We can talk about this when we get out."

Horrock just made a noise at her, somewhere between a grunt and a growl. Paylor gestured at Redstone. He took Horrock by the elbow, then poked her in the side with his gun to let her know it was there.

Paylor came over to me and offered me a hand up. I took it and was glad that I could stand without wobbling. She looked me in the eye and said "Thank you. That was a close call. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just bruised a bit." I didn't want to make a big deal about my splinted hand. I just wanted to get out of here. She didn't point out that none of it would have happened if I hadn't been an idiot and let a handcuffed prisoner get my gun. That would've been an awkward conversation.

Paylor uncuffed Batton. It was pretty clear Horrock was a traitor. I wondered if she'd considered that they might both be in on it. But I wasn't going to question her. She'd known them for years. Batton joined Redstone in guarding Horrock. With my injured hand still killing me I was glad to be relieved of that duty. They'd taken the pack off of Horrock and were dividing her stuff so no one had to carry it all.

"Hawthorne," Johanna held the camera out to me. "We still need those pictures." The rest of them were busy with Horrock.

"Sure." I figured I could handle that with one hand.

Then she said "You'll need the flashlight, too. You can't use the camera flash or you'll just get glare from the window."

"I'll get the flashlight." Asher crutched over to help me.

I took one picture of the skeletonized face in the window, then another down to the side that showed others also pressed up against the door.

"What d'you think happened to them?" I asked as I put the camera into Asher's pack.

"Probably a poison gas," Paylor answered. "That's why they pressed up against the door. We've seen detention cells like that before. I should've been ready for it."

Horrock smirked at her and Paylor's hand flinched toward her holster. But she took a breath and calmed herself. Too bad.

Johanna surprised me by coming over and pressing a couple of pills into my good hand. "They'll take the edge off." Maybe it was more obvious than I thought that my hand was hurting.

Before too long we were ready to go again. I was bringing up the rear now, just behind Asher as he crutched along. He was moving pretty well, obviously getting used to the crutches. I still couldn't think of any way to get Horrock up the vent besides knocking her out. Before she'd been mad; now she'd begun to move her head around in a strange jerky way. Was her brain about to snap? It was nothing but luck, good for us, bad for her, that had blown her desperate attempt. I wondered if she'd try anything else. She had to know that things wouldn't go well for her up top. From the tense silence of the group I knew the others knew the danger she posed.

The headache that never seemed to completely go away had come back full force. Maybe Johanna's pills would help with that too, once they kicked in. What I really needed was to breathe some clean air. A vision flashed through my mind of sitting back against the oak in the cool forest of District 4, holding Katniss. I'd do anything to be back there again, with her in my arms. Or even to just sit with her on the concrete stairs of the Base under an open sky.

We reached the interrogation room and Johanna, still leading, marched through the door without hesitating. Asher had to slow and turn to make it through every doorway; he was just too wide with the bulky ladder crutches on either side. Here the floor was wet, too. I waited behind him, ready to help if one of his crutches slipped.

Once we were in the labs, Johanna paused and said "Careful in here," before opening the door to the pod storage room. We'd told Mercurius about this room earlier when we were describing the route to the air vent. Batton had Horrock by the arm, and Redstone had his gun out, right behind. I was glad I wasn't the one watching her now. They just had to get her a few more feet to be past this room, but I wondered if she realized how volatile that room was.

"Sorry I'm so slow," Asher was turning sideways, but still had to lean forward a bit so that his pack could clear the door, this one a bit more narrow than the others they'd been through.

"Don't worry. We'll all get –"

A rush of noise and movement interrupted, then a shot, deafening in the close space. Horrock had broken away from Batton and Mercurius and was standing up against the shelf, her hands still cuffed, her elbow poised, ready to start pushing things off. A stain of dark blood was spreading on her side, her navy blue uniform sheening black. Redstone had shot her right in the gut. But her eyes had a strange glee in them. She knew she was going to die and she was going to take us all with her.

Batton and Redstone had their guns up and aimed at her head, but they couldn't fire. Knocking her into that shelf could set off every pod on it. At least some of them would be active.

She sought out Paylor, also frozen. "I'm not stupid. I know it's over. Too bad everyone has to die for your weakness." She snapped the end of every sentence. Her face broke into a rabid grin. She twisted manically and knocked something off the shelf.

I'd heard others say that life could go into slow motion, but it'd never happened to me before, until now. I felt very far away from my body, my pain. Time moved at a crawl as I watched a set of small metal balls drop. Trackerjacks? Darts? Why so small? They looked like a sketch of Beetee's – body armor blasters. Little balls of fire meant to explode on contact with body armor. Katniss thought they crossed the line. In here, they'd trigger every pod. That'd cross the line for me. They hit with echoing metal clangs that jerked life back into speed.

And nothing happened. They were duds.

Horrock snarled at her own bad luck, then found a pod with her elbow and knocked it down. Before I could register what was going on, Redstone dove forward. He landed on the pod as it hit the ground and for a moment I thought he'd held it together with his body, kept it from opening. But then there was a blast. Redstone was blown to one side and I threw up my hands and ducked as a white powder sprayed toward Asher and me.

I heard Asher scream as he took the brunt of it, and my skin burned where the powder hit me. He went down and I looked up to see Batton grabbing Horrock as she pushed another pod off of the shelf.

There was a strange shrieking hiss and a red cloud seeped out of this one. I tried to pull Asher away, but as soon as I touched him I knew he was dead, his face covered with an acidic foam that must have come from the powder. My hands were covered in it too and I tried to scrape it off on my pants as I backed away from the new horror.

But the cloud had hardened into a red bubble which didn't spread but encased Horrock and Batton as they struggled. Their screams were silenced, no sound escaping the bubble. Their bodies shook as they fought each other. Their faces changed, reacting to pain, death, something.

They were completely different. Horrock's face contorted, twisting, more and more feral, animal, hideous, until she seemed a snarling lizard, then she went slack and was gone.

But Batton seemed to hear or see something. He looked up, his face surprised, relieved. For a moment he was beautiful and bright, then he vanished in a burst of light.

It all happened so fast that I wasn't even sure what I'd seen. I finally realized I was the only one left alive on this side of the room. I grabbed onto Asher's body with my good hand, twisting the fabric of his shirt above his pack in my grip. His crutches fell and I pulled him away from them. He wouldn't need them any more. We crossed to the door where the others were fleeing. As I turned to close it, I saw that there was now nothing left but a puddle of gleaming red on the floor. I slammed the door and leaned my head against it, letting Asher's body slump to the floor.

I felt detached, numb, confused. I'd just been talking to Asher - and he was gone. Just like that last crazed drive into the Capitol. It was so random, so unfair.

I looked down at my own arms, wondering why I wasn't hurt more when he was dead. The bandage around my splint had been eaten away and my other arm was swollen and red, but the pain was no worse than a bad sunburn.

"We're taking a break. A half hour to bandage up, get some food and water. Then let's get out of here." Paylor's voice was brisk, but her eyes looked as dead as I felt. I leaned against the wall, unwinding what was left of the wrap off of my splint. I decided to take a look at my arm before I rewrapped it. I slipped off my pack, wincing as it scraped my raw right hand, then lifting it carefully off of my left arm. As I dug around for some bandaging I looked over and saw Johanna and Mercurius checking Redstone. I was amazed that he could be alive after throwing himself on that pod. I gave up on the bandages. I must not have brought any extra.

"Hawthorne, are you okay?" President Paylor was looking at me, her own face twisted as she held in her grief.

I didn't know how to answer that question. Was I okay?

"What just happened in there?" My voice wavered. It seemed wrong that I could be here, alive. Just a few inches and it would've been me.

Paylor sat on the floor and gestured for me to sit next to her. I did. She pulled a couple of bars out of her pack and gave me one. I took a bite, but it was like sawdust in my mouth. I grabbed my canteen and tried not to think of anything but the water.

"It never makes sense. It never gets easier," she said in a low voice. "Redstone sacrificed himself, but he's alive. Batton has saved me so many times and miraculously survived, but now . . . he's gone."

I held on to the most concrete thing she'd said. "How could Redstone not be dead? He had a bomb in his stomach."

"No. The charge was just enough to open the pod. The blast wasn't meant to kill. He took a punch to the gut, but he'll be okay. He saved some of us though. Who knows what that powder would have done if it had fully dispersed."

"He may have cracked some ribs," said Johanna, "But the body armor dispersed the impact. He _is_ going to have one hell of a bruise."

"How can Asher be dead when my hands are just burnt a little?"

Mercurius came over to us, squatting down to hand me some burn cream. "He took it right in the face. Maybe it poisoned him. At least he went quick."

I smeared the cream on my hands and was lost for the moment in its soothing balm.

"I killed Asher," came Redstone's voice, distorted by pain.

"You didn't kill him, Redstone. Horrock did. You saved the rest of us." Paylor's voice was still tightly controlled. I wondered what it was like to lose both of your bodyguards like that.

Redstone turned his head toward the wall. Johanna pulled his shirt down over the bandages she'd put on him, then sat next to him on the ground.

She tossed a roll of bandages toward me. "Hawthorne, you need to rewrap your splint."

I nodded and started to try to unroll them with my right hand.

"Let me do that," Mercurius said. I handed it to him, then realized he and Redstone were the only ones left down here from our squad. How could I have lost so many? I put my head back against the wall, my eyes gripped shut.

"Hey, before we go up, Asher figured something out. Something we'll need to know up there. He thinks . . . thought Walker helped Shine." Mercurius was repositioning the splint after he checked over my arm.

Another one. How could I have been so clueless? "Do you think he was right?" I ached to talk about Asher in past tense. I looked over at him, still slumped against the wall where I'd left him.

"Maybe. Shine must've set the charge when they were down before, bringing down the equipment. He said that there was a spill, some kind of booze in Rutilus's pack."

"Walker told me about that." I could barely remember back to standing by the wall, waiting for the phone with Walker.

"It couldn't have been Mica's," said Paylor and it took me a minute to realize that was Rutilus's first name. "She's not a drinker and she would never try to sneak something unauthorized in. Just not like her."

"But none of us knew that. Somebody put that in her stuff," Mercurius was wrapping my arm now. "Walker was the one who slung the pack down, broke the bottle. When they were cleaning it up Shine said he'd go to supply and get some towels. Asher even said he'd wondered why it took so long, but guessed that maybe the towels were hard to find."

"So that's when Shine set the charge. But anyone could have put the bottle in her pack. Before – back up top." I was trying to piece this all together. If we were wrong, and it wasn't Walker, then it could be someone else.

"No. Asher said security went through their packs. They would've seen it."

"It got past them somehow. Shine could've done it."

Mercurius shook his head. "Maybe. But Asher thought Walker was weird when the spill happened, wouldn't look them in the eye."

Johanna looked up. "Walker told me the new government was too soft. All the Capitol folks should be lined up and shot he said."

"Let's wait and see, when we get up top. Just keep an eye on him," I said. We were back to thinking anyone could be a spy. But then, some of them clearly were.

"Are you all ready? What do we need to do to get this climb going?"

"We need to get Asher ready. Anybody got a tarp?" I was glad no one argued. Somebody'd have to come back and get Marik and Shine later, but I didn't want to leave anyone else down here.

Mercurius went over and gave Redstone a hand up. Then the two of them wrapped Asher's body, a bandana over where his face had been, and secured him with ropes so we could lift him out.

The climb turned out to be much easier than I'd thought it would be. I hated that it was because most of our problems were dead. At least the ones down below.

Mercurius and Johanna led, since they both had good hands to deal with removing the fans. Paylor went up next so that the three of them could hoist up Asher's body. Then Redstone. We'd thought he'd need some help after the blow he'd taken, but he managed pretty well on his own. I went up last. Getting to the first vent was hard since I couldn't crevice climb yet. I climbed up the furnace then Redstone helped me. After that it was slow, but steady. We had to take out the fan at each level, then lower them down, but we got it done.

I could feel the air getting colder, fresher, the darkness giving way to light. The last time I had to wait, tucked back in an intake vent as the broken fan was lowered, I knew I couldn't take much more of the tight space in the vents. I focused on the sunlight, blocked by the vent cap, but still seeping through. I just wanted to be out. Katniss was waiting for me up there.

After a little more than two hours we were out. Mercurius was the first one. The climb past L1 was just twenty-some feet. He cut the top off of the vent, then whooped as his feet hit the ground. As Johanna followed him we could hear them talking. It sounded to me like there was another voice; they were talking to someone.

After they got Paylor up, Mercurius yelled something back down, but I couldn't hear him well. It sounded like he said "Hey Hawthorne, you're already up here," but that didn't make any sense.

The last part of the climb, I was looking up at light blue sky. I'd lost track of the time, but the fading color told me it was dusk. I didn't care how much it hurt my hands. I locked my eyes on the sky and went as fast as I could.

When I scrambled out of the top, the air was brisk and clear. I leaned my head back and filled my lungs with the clean taste of it. I opened them as I was grabbed into a tight embrace, then I knew what Mercurius had meant.

It was Rory. Somehow he was here waiting for us. And everyone was hugging and smiling. I didn't even mind when I saw Johanna give Rory a big hug, although she caught my eye and winked at me. Funny.

All my fatigue and grief slid away. It felt so good to be standing there on the mountain, free from the Nut, the wide sky around us.

Except Asher was dead. I looked over at his body and realized I'd have to tell his family. And Marik's. And what would I say to Shine's family?

We heard someone crashing through the trees, then saw Chervil running up through the scrub oak. He smiled to see us, but then panted "They're coming."

He was breathless as he explained that Katniss had done some amazing press conference; a riot was breaking out when she finished, some wanting us rescued, some wanting to lynch us. He'd been right behind the podium, when he heard someone announce to Onyx, standing just to the side, "They're out. They've been spotted. On the mountain."

"I didn't wait. I knew you'd be here, on the south side. But they're coming. They think you're dead." He pointed to Paylor. "They're coming to arrest you," he said to me.

"It's nuts down there," Rory jumped in. "Gale, they're saying that you and Johanna were out to kill the President."

My mouth gaped open. Why would I want to do that? But Rory must have already told the others. Paylor motioned for us to gather around.

"For now, let them think I'm dead. In fact, helmets back on, everyone. Let's find out as much as we can before they know who's alive. We have another battle to get through here."

As we put our helmets on, gathered our gear, Chervil threw his arm around me. "I can't believe you guys got out. I'm so glad to see you."

"Me, too," I said, trying to get my mind back, ready to deal with whatever was coming. "Where's Katniss? Is she okay?"

"It was crazy after the press conference. I lost everyone else. But I saw them. She was okay. Walker was taking her somewhere."

My head snapped up and cold gripped my chest.

I'd been trying not to jump to conclusions on Walker. But not if he had Katniss. My gut was telling me that something was off, that he was up to no good.

"Where were they?" Wherever it was, I was going. Now.

"I don't know. The press conference was in the parking lot, just outside the Nut's security fence. I saw them leaving, up the stairs, back to base. I thought they were just trying to get away from the crowd, from everyone asking her questions. What's wrong?"

"We think he was helping Shine. I gotta go."

"They're not going to let you. The MP's are coming - they're just down the hill."

I could hear them. They certainly weren't sneaking up on anyone.

"I'll go around," I said, already calculating how long it would take to make a wide enough circle to evade them. Too long. And if they were smart and spread apart . . . I needed to get over to the Base. Now.

"Gale, go. I'll stay." It was Rory.

"What?" He was taking off his sweatshirt, holding it out to me.

"Give me your helmet, and those arm things. They'll think I'm you. It'll buy you time."

Chervil nodded. "Let's go. Doc's down below. He'll help."

I started to unstrap the body armor.

Mercurius said "Just go. We'll give him Asher's. You can't let them see you."

I looked up at Paylor and she nodded. That was all I needed. I gave Rory a quick hug, and Chervil and I took off for the trees. As we ran, I slipped off my pack and pulled on his sweatshirt, leaving the hood on to hide my face. I thought about ditching the pack, but I didn't know what we'd be facing. Better keep my stuff.

We heard the military police confronting the others. Nice welcome home they were getting. But now they wouldn't be looking for us; they wouldn't be searching the mountain.

Except they were.

I ducked behind a tree, hoping it was thick enough to hide both me and my pack. Chervil was behind another. He caught my eye.

"They've got Doc," he said softly. "Now, they're looking for me." He sighed and leaned his head back against the tree. "Check Brighton's office and Beetee's lab. If we can get loose we'll come help."

Before I could register what he meant, he stepped out from behind his tree, his hands up.

"Don't shoot," he called. "I'm coming."

I was on my own.

* * *

**Thanks so much, IrishLuck19, for the extra work on this chapter. **

**And thanks to all of you reading this story. Extra thanks to those of you who read and review. Such fun that new names keeping popping up: **

**ticktock22, Howlynn, MountainAir, LittleSpark, EchoDeltaNine, HopeNeverDies, GirL0vesDoom, Cherryflavorpez, RipredtheGnawer, Allie, eternallystarcrossed2010, AlwaysSmile, Solaryllis, Analyn Ruse, Cloud Lover 26, HungerGamesGirl27, Lenners, iluvdinos, KidsinLovex**

**Drop me a review if you've stuck with us this far. **


	29. Bombshells

**Disclaimer – Not Suzanne Collins; don't own any of her stuff.**

**Bombshells**

"As you know, three years ago I was reaped."

Rutilus had said to start this press conference at the beginning - that it'd get people's attention. It seemed to be working. I saw hundreds of eyes on me and squirmed. I took a deep breath and focused my eyes on one little boy that I didn't know way in the back. That was a trick Peeta had taught me.

"But even before I was sent to the Games, I'd been forced to live in lies. My father died in a mine when I was 12. I met Gale because his dad died the same day. The only way for us to keep our families from starving was to sneak into the woods of District 12 and hunt, illegally. And no, we're not cousins. That was one of the many lies that started when I was in the arena. They just couldn't handle that my hunting partner and best friend was good looking.

"In the woods I learned to shoot arrows as if my life depended on them. Because it did."

I took a deep breath. This part was hard.

"Peeta was honest about how he felt about me, but I wasn't sure what I felt. At first I knew there was no romance. Not on my part. I didn't want to care for him since one of us was going to have to die. Once we were in the arena, some of it was an act to get some sponsors, to stay alive. Some of it was a battle, doing whatever we had to do. And some of it was real, because Peeta was a wonderful guy. But it was all mixed together until I didn't even know what I really felt. "

I was giving this speech to save Gale, but it was much more than that. I needed to help the president, Johanna and all the others down there. I needed to help Panem to find a new way, to stop believing the lies, to start looking for the truth.

And part of this I was doing for Peeta, to somehow go back and fix the things that had gone wrong between us. I knew that most of it was my fault. The lies he'd told were told to keep me safe, part of the game the Capitol was forcing us to play. But it was time for it to end.

"It wasn't until the Games and the rebellion were over that I was finally free to truly love Peeta. The time we had together was beautiful and precious. But it was cut short. The Capitol had damaged his heart too much for him to survive."

I glanced at Rutilus, who was sitting next to the podium. She gave me a sad smile. I didn't look at the other media people who, by now, had to have realized that I wasn't using their speech. I took another deep breath and looked for that kid in the back again.

I hated even thinking about the Victory Tour, but I needed to explain why we'd done what we did. I condensed it as much as I could. I told them how President Snow had threatened me. My stomach clenched again with the raw terror I'd felt. So I'd acted like Peeta and I were in love. What really choked me up was saying how sorry I was for repeating the Capitol's lies at every stop, in every District. For letting my entire life become a Capitol lie. But I told them what had happened in 11. Maybe they'd understand.

So I went on and on, through the Quarter Quell, the rebellion, Peeta's hijacking. I tried to keep it brief, but every once in a while I had to stop to pull myself back together. When I was silent I realized that the crowd was silent too. It seemed as though it was holding its breath and tension built in the air.

"The last lie I was part of was just yesterday. I _am _worried about President Paylor, but that's not why I'm here. In fact, I didn't even know that the president was down there before I got to District 2. I came because where I come from, when someone you love is trapped in a mine, you go. You wait. If there's anything you can do to help them, you do it. And I'm not going to stand by and lose Gale to a mine."

I heard some murmuring in the crowd, and felt stirring behind me, but I raised my voice and ignored whatever it was.

"Gale may not be my cousin, but he was my friend, my hunting partner, and the Games and the rebellion tore us apart. I lost my best friend and for a while I hated him. Peeta never stopped trying to get us to reconcile. Now we have.

"I know some of you won't approve of me being with Gale now, but I also know that Peeta made me promise I'd keep living my life after he was gone. I won't ever forget him. In fact, I think he's helping me have the strength to be up here telling you all of this now. And I know that Peeta is watching over me, glad that I can admit, to pretty much the whole world, that I'm in love with Gale.

"But the last lies going on threaten Gale's life, President Paylor's life and the lives of all of those still down in the Nut. Just a few minutes ago Colonel Onyx stood here and said that it's unlikely that anyone is still alive down there. I'm sorry but I don't think that's true."

There were shouts and some cheering. The crowd seemed to push toward me, moving and seething like a living thing, with an energy that reminded me of the crowd that long ago day in District 11.

"I don't know who's alive right now, but I do know that just this morning I talked to Gale and Johanna on a rigged up communicuff that has since been taken away from us. They were alive and doing well and, by the way, they're not dating. At the time they also thought that the President and many of the others were still alive, but they couldn't get to them yet."

I could feel the anger coming up from in front of me. I wondered how many of them had loved ones below, how many were here for President Paylor, knowing what she meant to our fragile country.

"I'm not the only one who knows that someone was still alive down there. Those who were evacuated from L3 heard a yell, someone was alive, but when they came up, no one wanted to believe them."

I tried to ignore the sounds around me, but I glanced down and saw that the military guards in front of the platform were being pushed back against it. I could feel the structure tremble and, for a second fear of falling gripped me. Then I saw, near the back of the crowd, Veritas's flaming hair, and Julina sparkling at his side. Their hopeful eyes gave me strength and I kept going.

"What we need to do is keep asking questions, not just believe everything that is said. Gale and Johanna have no interest in killing the President. In fact, I'm sure that they're doing all they can to keep her alive. We need to keep an eye on the supposed rescue operations up here. Make sure that they do all they can to get them safely out, then make sure that any accusations that fly over who's fault all of this is are handled fairly and carefully. There's no need to rush to judgment, no need to just believe whatever the _Panem Circus _prints.

"Are there any questions?"

With a burst of shouting in my face, I stepped back from the podium. I couldn't make out any thing anyone was saying. I didn't know what to do. But Rutilus stepped up to the microphone and announced "Let's try to quiet down so Katniss can take some questions."

She called on reporters by name, and I did my best to answer their questions. But once they finished asking me about my love life and moved on to what was happening in the Nut all I could say was "I don't know." The crowd was pushing forward and I felt the platform shifting. It wasn't very sturdy anyway. It wouldn't take much more of this.

"Thank you for your time. We'll let you know when we have more information." Rutilus smoothly motioned for me to go. I turned and was relieved to see Doc, Chervil, Walker, and Groves standing near the back of the podium. I didn't know how they'd gotten out, but when Doc motioned for me to follow them I did.

Doc and Walker were pressing a pathway through the people who were pressing toward me, asking more questions, reaching their hands out, creeping me out. Chervil and Groves were just behind. We were deep in the crowd when I heard Chervil call out: "Hey Doc, wait. There's news."

"I'll be right back," said Doc.

Someone grabbed me by the elbow. Startled, I jerked back around, then saw that it was just Walker. "Let's get out of this mess," he said. "They'll catch up with us."

Something about the way he held on to me made me nervous. I pulled my arm away from him. Groves was right behind us. I kept following Walker. At least he'd get us out of this mob. We were outdoors so there were no stairways we could duck into to escape, but the crowd was thinning. I wished I had my hooded sweat shirt to hide in. My white suit stood out in the sea of gray fatigues.

"Come on, we can take the back way up to the Base. Its longer, but that crowd is getting out of control." Walker tried to take my elbow again and I pulled away from him. I wasn't sure I should go with them. But where else would I go? I didn't know Walker very well. But Groves was coming. I trusted him.

The two of them were quiet as we walked. There was none of the easy banter that followed Chervil.

"Where're you going? I thought we're going to meet up at Brighton's office." Groves said as Walker made a right to go up some stairs. I'd never been on this part of the Base. I looked at the building we were passing and noticed that the sign in front said "Detention Facility." I had a wild thought to go in and free Brighton, but there was no real way I could do that.

"There's a new plan. Beetee's finally got communications back up. We're going to meet in the labs and see if we can talk to them."

My chest leaped. After all of the rumblings and explosions from the deep today I needed to hear Gale's voice again. Was he alive? Was he hurt? Would they be out soon?

Groves seemed skeptical. He asked "How do you know?"

"He sent a kid down to tell me while she was talking."

Groves frowned. He didn't like something about that.

"Does Doc know?"

"I didn't get a chance to tell him. Why don't you head over to the office and wait for them there? Then you can bring them up to the lab."

Groves looked intensely at me. His hand was resting on the gun in his holster. Had he been wearing it back in Brighton's office? I glanced over and noticed that Walker had his too.

"Okay, we'll meet you up there," Groves said and he turned and jogged away. For a moment I wanted to go with him, to be with someone I trusted. But I had to know that Gale was okay; I needed to hear his voice, find out when they'd be out. Once again, Walker tried to steer me by the elbow, but I pulled away. We couldn't be far from the lab. I wished I had a gun, too. Or my bow. Something. I did have my knife, tucked into the waistband of my skirt.

I was relieved once we were back in Beetee's building and I knew where we were. It was quiet though. It wasn't usually very noisy, but the labs we passed were completely still and empty.

"Where's everybody?" I asked.

"Press conference." So it'd been a big enough deal that even the computer geeks were there. I was surprised that they even knew about it. The crowd had been big. But then was Beetee working alone? Had he gotten the system back up by himself? Something wasn't right.

Walker was next to me, tense. I caught his eye, but he just gave me a slight frown and didn't say anything.

Sure enough, when we reached Beetee's lab he was the only one there, the sound of his typing strangely loud in the silence.

"Beetee, I brought her," Walker stated.

Beetee looked up and in his eyes I saw the calculating killer in the arena. Hunting me.

I didn't really make a conscious decision. I just bolted. Down the hall, into the first stairwell I found.

"Get her," Beetee snapped.

The metal stairs echoed with my footsteps, but speed was more important than silence. I could hear Walker pounding behind me. I was skipping stairs, racing up, just two more floors in this building. No idea what else was up here. As I ran my mind flew, trying to think of where to go, how to evade him.

Could I get back to Brighton's office? To get there I'd have to cover open ground. Would Walker shoot me? Probably.

I reached the top, went into the hall, and sprinted down its length. Could I make it to the kitchen? It was closer. There'd be people there. But they'd be unarmed, unsuspecting. They couldn't help me and I'd just get them hurt.

I felt a stitch in my side. It'd been a long time since I'd run full out. I was almost to the end of the corridor. I heard the stairway door slam open, then a blast of sound. He'd shot at me. The bastard. I felt no pain, but my ears burned from the noise. I reached the far stairwell and ducked into it. At least he wouldn't have a clear shot in here. I gripped the knife still in my waist band. It wouldn't do me any good against his gun.

My footsteps echoed again down the metal stairs.

I still had no plan. I just needed to get away, not to get shot. Maybe I could hide. Wait until Groves, Doc and Chervil came. I should have gone with them. With a jolt I realized that Walker had lied; communications weren't back up. I wasn't going to talk to Gale. If they killed me, I'd never get to talk to him.

I decided that when I reached the first floor I'd head right, get out of this building, take my chances in the next one where maybe they wouldn't know what was there any more than I did. I threw open the stairwell door, turned and froze. Beetee was there, a gun barrel in my face.

There was a flash of light, but no noise. He hadn't shot me. It was more like he'd taken my picture with the gun. That made no sense. He didn't lower it, though, and I didn't move.

It was the gun from the file, in the sketches I'd seen. Sleek and silver, with a scope nearly as big as the gun on top. And a light blinking in the scope.

I heard Walker thunking down the stairs. No wonder Beetee had been ready for me. I hadn't exactly creeped up on him.

My breath was ragged. I forced myself to slow, to take deep breaths. I wanted to be ready if I got another chance to run.

The door opened again behind me. Where was everyone? When would they come back from the press conference? Where was Julina? No. I didn't want her here. I didn't want to see a gun pointed at her, too.

"Let's go." Beetee marched me down the hall, Walker to my right. Wherever they were taking me, whatever they were doing, it wasn't good. I walked as slowly as I could, delaying whatever this nightmare was.

"What's going on Beetee? What're you doing?" I was mostly buying time. For what I didn't know. But maybe he'd tell me something.

"I'm going to show you my new invention." I knew he meant the gun.

"Why?"

"Because I'm not going to jail. I'm not going to trial." We were almost to the lab. I didn't want him to say any more in the hall. If he said it in the lab, it'd be on camera. The mikes would pick it up. Maybe they would see down in Brighton's office, or maybe, after they found my dead body, someone would know who'd done it.

We went into the lab. I was trapped in here, completely on Beetee's turf, but at least there'd be a record.

"Frisk her," said Beetee. Walker didn't seem to like taking orders from Beetee. He glanced at him with a frown and as soon as he looked away I pulled my knife. But he saw the motion and slammed my wrist into the wall.

He pried the knife out of my hand. "Pretty," he smirked and slipped it into his belt. Jerk.

"When did you become a creep?" I snapped at him.

"When I figured out that Paylor was too much of a wimp to run a country. Coin knew you couldn't mess around with trials and garbage."

"What do you want with me?"

Beetee answered. "Hawthorne's either dead or going to jail. But you're not going to be around to back his story." His voice was calm, just telling me his plan. "And, don't get excited. I took the camera out. How stupid do you think I am?"

My heart fell. My last chance to help Gale. Gone. Beetee wasn't known for being dumb. I closed my eyes, all hope gone, and leaned into the wall my hands were still up against. I had walked up here myself, walked right into this mess.

There was a sound in the hall. Beetee's head jerked back. He'd left the door open. Walker silently pulled his gun and pointed it at me, while Beetee turned to check the hall, taking his eery gun with him. We couldn't see him as he went down the short corridor to the door. I could hear my heart thumping, still not back to normal from my running.

Instead of hearing the door shut, we heard a thud, and a grunt. I looked at Walker and he jerked his gun, letting me know he was ready to use it. It was pointed at my head.

Then there was a shuffling sound. Beetee came back into view, his hands held up above his head. I saw the silver gun first, raised and pointed at his head.

Then I saw Gale.

I should've known he'd have my back. Even if it wasn't possible. Somehow he'd known. Somehow he'd gotten here.

I stood away from the wall. His face was burnt, bruised, his lip swollen. His pants were torn, stained with what might've been blood. I could see the splint on his left hand, and the hand holding the gun looked swollen and red. His chest was heaving. He must've run here.

But he looked magnificent. If he could be here anything was possible. Somehow we could beat the odds.

Or maybe not.

"Hawthorne, you know this gun." Beetee's voice was cocky. "It won't work for you and it won't shoot me. It's the Katniss gun I told you about. Why don't you tell her what it does?"

"I could still hit you with it," Gale said, moving the gun butt to right above Beetee's head.

"Put it down, Sarge, or I'll shoot her." Walker's voice was higher than usual. His hand was shaking.

"Don't call me Sarge." Gale glanced at him with total hatred. He lowered the gun.

Walker kept his gun pointed at my head. Beetee took the gun from Gale, then motioned to Walker.

Walker moved over to Gale. I looked over but saw that Beetee now had the silver gun pointed at me. Walker kept his own gun pointed at Gale while he frisked him with his other hand, took his gun, his knife.

I saw Gale's eyes catch my knife in Walker's belt and they went even darker. But then he looked up at me, and they softened. Somehow, with just that look, he told me not to worry. That it was okay.

He knew something they didn't know. When we were both in danger, like when we were facing the boar, he went into hyper alert mood, his shoulders raised and tense. He wasn't like that now. Even though there was a gun pointed at his head, he wasn't worried.

I gave him a nod. I couldn't quite work up a smile, but if he wasn't worried, I wouldn't be. Well, not much.

"So you don't want to tell," Beetee was bragging. Damn him for taking out that camera. But he hadn't mentioned the microphones. "I built this gun to even the odds. Some of us can't shoot as well as you can, Katniss, but this gun changes that. You're known for taking down your prey with a single shot, through the eye. Perfect, elegant, deadly. That's what this does. Earlier I scanned your retina. Now, no matter where I point the gun, it's targeted to you. It'll take you down, one shot, elegant, through the eye."

Did he think I'd be impressed with his sick invention?

I looked back at Gale. He closed his eyes for a second and looked back at me, telling me he was sorry, sorry he'd known about that gun, sorry I'd had to hear about that hideous idea, sorry it was targeting me now.

I wondered if the bullet could follow me into the hall. If I ducked into the staircase, surely the metal door would slow it down. But I couldn't risk that with a gun pointed at Gale.

But he still wasn't afraid. He wasn't worried. If he'd thought I was about to die, he'd be wound up with nerves, thinking wildly to find a way out. No matter what trap Beetee thought he'd set, Gale had outsmarted it somehow.

"Hawthorne, take off your sweatshirt." Beetee's tone was imperial. Gale didn't move. Beetee rolled his eyes. "Walker, get that shirt off of him."

Walker smirked at Gale as he pulled my knife out from his belt. He sliced the shirt open in the front, the knife moving cleanly through the fabric which he held taut at the bottom. Even though he made the cut up, so that he could finish by flourishing the knife right in Gale's face, Gale didn't twitch. Instead he kept his eyes locked onto Walker's face. I noticed that Walker, for all his cockiness, couldn't hold Gale's gaze as he tore the sweatshirt off his arms.

"Thought so. A little body armor hidden under there." Once again, Gale didn't respond.

"Walker, watch the hall," Beetee said. Walker glanced at him, then back at Gale. He slipped the knife - my knife - back into his belt and stepped past Gale down the corridor toward the hall, gun held up and ready.

Then I realized, Walker was shaking. But Beetee was completely calm. No hands in his hair, no nervous quaking for him. The gun in his hand was targeted at me. With Walker gone, why wasn't he afraid of Gale? Was he just sure that Gale would never move, never take a chance when Beetee was so ready to kill me? But if Beetee pulled that trigger, if he killed me, then what would he have to use against Gale? He was smart enough to know that. Why wasn't he more scared? He had the same look he'd had in the arena, when he was watching someone about to die in one of his traps.

These were the two masters of traps and each one thought he had the other one right where he wanted him.

I knew Beetee better than Gale did, at least lately. I needed to figure out what he was thinking, find his trap.

"Hawthorne, you don't want to watch her die. Take a step back."

Gale's eyes were fixed on Beetee, his hands down since Walker had pulled the shirt off his arms, but raised a bit, ready to fight. He didn't move. Beetee rolled his eyes with irritation and stalked over to Gale.

He began to rant. "Just for fun, I think I'll doctor up this file too. Give you credit for one more invention. You'll be dead, but I'll get to enjoy the irony of everyone thinking you invented the weapon that took out your precious Mockingjay." He waved the gun in Gale's face and Gale took a step back, eyeing the gun as though it was a bomb, as though it was as dangerous to him as it was to me.

Beetee's eyes flickered toward the ceiling and I tried to put together why he was acting so strangely. He sauntered back over near his desk, still waving his gun around. He seemed very pleased with himself, as though it was some great accomplishment to get Gale to flinch, to step back. Why did he care? Why did Beetee want to make Gale back away like that? To get him away from me? Gale was still close enough that if he dived, he could reach me, take me down and cover me. Besides from what Beetee said, that wouldn't help. The gun would still find its target.

Then I remembered how Beetee's eyes had flickered to the ceiling and it all made sense.

The booby trap Johanna had told me about. There was something up there in the ceiling and he'd just made Gale step right under it.

I looked at Gale, then up at the ceiling above him, trying to send him a silent message, but I just saw a crease form between his eyebrows as he frowned at me, not understanding the message I was trying to send him. I couldn't risk anything more. I didn't want Beetee to realize what I'd figured out.

Beetee looked at him coldly and I knew in my gut what was up there. Body armor blasters. He'd needed to make sure that Gale was wearing body armor. The blasters would explode the second they touched the armor. And Gale was covered in it.

But I wasn't.

I'd need to move fast and I couldn't let Gale see it coming or I'd never knock him off his feet. I had to catch him by surprise.

We all stood there. My body was tense, ready to move. But for a moment time stood still, no one ready to be the first one to go. I made sure not to look at Gale so that he couldn't read my plan in my eyes.

Then there was another sound in the hall. Walker might hold them off, but someone was coming.

It all happened at once. I saw a flash, then a loud explosion, even louder than Walker's gun had been. I clenched my eyes shut, knowing an eyelid wouldn't stop a bullet, but having to try it anyway.

And I dove into Gale with all the force I could muster.

I hit him with all my weight, which wouldn't have been enough if he'd been ready for it, but he wasn't. He may have been braced for an attack, but not from me. He fell, taking me with him and for a second I was just glad to feel him beneath me. Then my back and my neck burst into pain and I knew I was screaming.

Gale started to thrash, trying to push me off.

"Body armor blasters," I yelled. I had to let him know not to touch them.

He froze. He understood. I could feel the burning, on my leg, on my back, on my arm, on my neck. The door flew open and someone was there, lots of people.

"Don't let them touch the armor! Get it off!" He warned. "Get them off her!"

Then I relaxed into him. And went into darkness.

* * *

The first thing I was aware of was a scraping sound. Then pain, there, but dulled. Not morphling; I could think. I was lying on my front, my face to one side, soft cloth on my cheek. I opened my eyes and saw a wall, white. I smelled the sharp scent of disinfectant, a hospital. I raised my head, then flinched. My neck hurt. I put my head back down.

"You awake?" Johanna.

"Um, yeah." My brain was cloudy.

Johanna came around to the side of my bed, still holding a muddy boot which she must've been cleaning with her knife.

"You're gonna live. So's pretty boy. He's in surgery. They're trying to save his hand. They'll be able to. I did a good job on it."

She sure was smug.

"My neck?" I asked.

"You took a bunch of body armor blasters, all over your back. They didn't explode, but the phosphate burned you pretty good. What's with you and the always getting burned? It's getting a bit old already."

"Beetee?"

"That bastard's toast. Hawthorne slipped some explosive tape into his gun barrel. When he fired it, it blew him to bits."

"Yuck."

"Better him than you."

"What about Walker?"

"Groves and Chervil made a mess of him. He's in detention now. I hope they put him in with Onyx. They'd get along great."

"Paylor?"

"She's a solid oak. She let them arrest us. They were cuffing all of us, including Rory. He was decoying for Gale. Before they got to her she asked 'What're the charges?' Some jerk said 'Assassinating the president,' and she popped her helmet off. 'Then there's no charges.' I wish I could've gotten to the camera. The guy almost fainted." She closed her eyes and grinned, enjoying the memory.

"How'd Gale get there? Get to the lab?"

She told me the whole story. I decided I owed a lot to a lot of people – Rory, Chervil, Paylor.

"We came marching down the mountain, well, limping down in my case." I looked down and noticed that she had a fresh cast on one leg. "It's not broken. Just a bad sprain. But apparently they don't trust me to stay off of it so they casted it up. Bunch of gutless weevils. Paylor made them let Doc and Chervil go, and they took off after Gale. I guess they ran into Groves and he brought them up to the lab. Paylor was great.

"There was this crazy mob. They'd already rushed Onyx. He had to be put in the detention facility for his own protection. But Paylor just marched in and took over the podium. Merc and I did the bodyguard thing. The crowd was wild, but she stayed cool, calmed them down. She thanked us all, you too, and said there would be a full investigation and report on what had happened in the Nut. Now everybody's pretty much in the waiting room, waiting to see if Hawthorne'll be able to tie his shoelaces again. It was too crowded in there, so I told them you needed a guard."

She smirked at me. I just smiled, glad to hear her attitude again.

"Katniss, honey, how are you?" It was Hazelle. She gently kissed my cheek. She looked up at Johanna and held out her hand. "Johanna Mason? I'm Hazelle Hawthorne. I hear you've spent the last two days bandaging my son. Thank you."

Johanna shook her hand with a shrug, but her cheeks blazed red. I laughed to see her embarrassed. Hazelle turned back to me and Johanna stuck her tongue out at me behind her.

"He just came out of surgery. Can you walk? He'll want you there when he wakes up."

The hardest part was getting up. Then my weird hospital gown was all messed up. Johanna and Hazelle helped pull it closed over my dressings. Hazelle made sure I was decent. It hurt to move, but I'd felt worse.

Hazelle held my arm as we walked slowly down the hall. "Johanna – can you go let the boys in the waiting room know that Gale's out of surgery? He's doing fine. I'll let them know when he's ready for more visitors." Johanna disappeared and I kept putting one foot in front of the other.

Rory peeked out of a doorway, Posy next to him. She looked at me and gave me a deep frown, clearly not happy with me for some reason.

"What's up Posy?"

"I heard you talking. You said you love Gale. Is there going to be lots of kissing stuff? Yuck."

"I'll try not to be too gross."

Rory glanced down at her and laughed.

"I hear you were arrested," I said to him. "You okay?"

"Yeah," he grinned, like he'd completely enjoyed it. "It wasn't too bad. And now Gale owes me, big time."

And there was Gale. We were in a long room, full of nurses and machines and other patients coming to. His eyes were open, but he looked foggy.

I went and stood next to him. He seemed to be working to pull my face into focus.

"Catnip," he said.

"Hey – how are you?"

"Good. Really good." I laughed. After the last couple of days, drugged and bandaged and hurting from surgery was good.

I glanced at Posy. "You might want to look away." I leaned down and gave him a soft kiss.

He gave me a sleepy smile.

"Guess what," I said.

"What?"

"You're not my cousin anymore."

"Good to know." His smile grew. Then he frowned as though he was putting his memory back together. "Did you . . . ? You did. You took those blasters for me."

"Now you owe me," I said, knowing that I already owed him everything. "I do need a favor."

"Yeah? What?"

"I'm gonna need some serious sunblock. You'll have to help."

That reached through the fog. His face lit up in a full smile. "You know it. Come here."

And he kissed me again.

Posy made a gagging noise. "Yuck."

* * *

**Thanks so much for sticking with this story to the end. There is an epilogue coming.**

**IrishLuck19 – Your insight has added so much. Thanks for getting me through all of this story. **

**And thanks to all of you for reading. **

**Double thanks for my reviewers: GKSRCPSALK4ever, sophiebusuttil, Analyn Ruse, Howlynn, Cloud-Lover 26, L. sohma Cullen, HopeNeverDies, Solaryllis, Heart the Squid, ellenka, luis1113, Daydreaming Viking Girl, HungerGamesGirl 27, wisdomgoddess26, ticktock 22, EchoDeltaNine, Allie, Lenners, BW-Photography, gale4ever, samigirl96, XanimexotakuX, iluvdinos. **


	30. Epilogue  Gifts

**Gifts**

I was in the kitchen skinning a rabbit when I heard the front door open and close. As I washed my hands off I listened to see if he was coming, but the only sound I heard was a ragged sigh. I dried my hands on a dishtowel as I peeked into the living room.

Gale was slumped against the wall just inside the door, his head on his knees, his hands gripping his hair. It hadn't gone well.

I slid down the wall to sit next to him and put my hand on his knee. He took my hand and interlaced our fingers. After a few moments he looked up at me. His eyes were swollen and red.

"He hates me," he whispered.

I sighed. It was what we had expected, but that didn't help.

The trials wouldn't be until this summer, but news about the charges to be filed had been leaking out so Gale had decided he had to talk to Rory, tell him what had happened before he heard it from someone else.

The ridiculous thing was that Paylor had already offered Gale a pardon. She made it very clear that he didn't have to stand trial, but he was insisting. I closed my eyes and leaned against him.

He was so stubborn. He claimed that it was for the good of New Panem, that there should be no favorites, that all of the dark deeds had to be brought out into the light. Maybe. But I couldn't help thinking that he just wasn't done punishing himself.

Paylor would offer him a pardon again after the trial, if he was convicted. I just hoped we could convince him to take it then. Maybe Rory would be punishment enough.

"I saw it happen," he said.

"What?"

"I could see it in his eyes when he understood, when he hardened, when realized what I'd done."

"What did he say?"

"Nothing. He glared at me, then turned and walked away, into the woods. I called after him, but he kept going. He hates me."

"Give him some time. If I came around anything's possible." We sat together as the early spring day turned to evening. We were getting married in a month and a half, on May 1. Would that be enough time?

"Hey, Sweetheart! Got a minute?"

I stopped to wait for Haymitch. His new house was just down the road from our house, the house Peeta and I had started that Gale and I were finishing. My arms were loaded down with a giant box I had just picked up at the post office - curtains.

"Here, let me take that for you."

"Since when are you a gentleman?" He was up to something.

"Since I'm about to ask you for something. I need to get on your good side quick."

I handed him the box. I'd already carried it a long way.

"What do you want?" I asked him with a smile. He seemed almost sober today.

"What're you doing with Peeta's art stuff?" he asked.

I was glad I wasn't holding the box any more. I would've dropped it. "Why? Are you going to become an artist?"

He shrugged. "Don't want that stuff to get thrown out. If you don't want it, I'll take it." We had reached our house. He set the box on the porch.

"Sure. I'll bring it over later." He must've known I couldn't throw Peeta's things away. But I was glad to have someone to give them to. I'd actually had no idea what to do with them.

"You know where to find me," Haymitch said as he ambled off.

"Gale!" I called as I entered the house. "I got the curtains."

"I'm in the kitchen."

I left the box in the living room, then went into the kitchen. It was now a buttery gold, a color Peeta had chosen. Gale was up on a ladder, paintbrush in hand.

"Looks like you're almost done," I said, noticing that his right hand was very steady with the brush. His left hand was still a bit shaky. Probably always would be.

"I'm no artist, but it's okay. What do you think?"

"It's good. Do you need any help?"

"No, I just have to finish the edges up here."

"I ran into Haymitch. He wants Peeta's art supplies. I think I'll go box those up now."

"Haymitch is an artist?" Gale looked as surprised as I was.

I shrugged. "Anything is possible, I guess. Let me know when you're done and we can have lunch. Your mom sent over sandwiches."

As I went upstairs, I pondered Haymitch's request. I had put Peeta's paints, brushes, paper, canvases and easel in one of the extra bedrooms. I hadn't wanted to throw them out, but they'd certainly go to waste here. Did Haymitch have a secret talent? Or did he just want to hold on to something that had been Peeta's? I'd been worried that he would be rude - well, ruder than usual - to Gale. I didn't think he would approve of me marrying again so soon. But he hadn't been too awful. Greasy Sae did tell me that she'd thought he might drink himself to death in the months after we lost Peeta. Maybe some drawing would help him.

It was hard to pack up these things, although I noticed that some of the papers had been nibbled on by mice; Buttercup was slacking off. Better not to keep them here. I remembered how happy Peeta'd been when a new shipment of oil paints had arrived on the hovercraft. I'd bought him this sketch pad to wile away the time in the hospital. His desk had a large drawer which was full of various sketches and paintings, some finished, some incomplete.

Then, in the back of the drawer, I noticed one which was rolled up and tied with a piece of string. I reached back for it.

It had a note taped on to it: "For Gale." I checked the note again. If it had been in my sloppy scrawl I might have misread it, but Peeta's handwriting was careful, perfect.

I carried it downstairs. Gale was just coming down the ladder. "You won't believe what I found up there. Don't get paint on it."

Gale wiped his hands and I handed it to him. He frowned. He knew Peeta's handwriting by now. He'd seen it all over the house "What is it?"

"I don't know. I didn't open it. It's for you."

He slipped the string off and unrolled the parchment. I couldn't see it from where I was standing. I felt like, whatever it was, it wasn't for me. He should get to see it first.

"It's beautiful," he said and turned the paper around. It was a pencil sketch of Posy. She was sitting in the grass, making a dandelion crown. Her hair was already full of flowers. It was black and white, except for the dandelions which blazed with gold pastel. "It looks just like her," marveled Gale. "We could hang it here in the kitchen. Once the paint dries."

I shook my head in wonder. Somehow Peeta had managed to send me a message, blessing our wedding.

There was only one other thing I needed for our wedding to be perfect, but just thinking about it made my palms sweaty. I needed to talk to Rory.

It'd been more than a month now and Rory hadn't spoken to him, or to me, once. Hazelle told me that he was hardly speaking to anyone. His heart had turned to granite and not even Posy could get through to him. We were all worried about what he'd do.

We were getting married in less than a week. Prim wouldn't be there, but Rory should be.

I didn't tell Gale what I was going to do. I just said that I was going over to his mom's to see my mom and help with the cooking. Which was sort of true. My mom was actually staying at our house until the wedding, but she spent most of her time at Hazelle's getting ready for the wedding. I'd have to remember to do something in the kitchen when I got back.

Rory wasn't home. I asked Hazelle where she thought he might be and she just shook her head. I decided to go see if I could track him in the woods. I was just leaving when Hazelle peered out of the kitchen. "Try the creek, by the mine. He took his fishing pole." Just like Gale. He couldn't even sulk without doing something productive.

He was there, on the other side of the creek, his pole dangling in the water, his eyes unfixed. I was afraid he would leave if he saw me coming so I went upstream, out of view, to cross the creek at some shallows. I didn't want to seem to be stalking him, but I approached from behind, careful to make no noise.

I didn't want to startle him. One had to be careful around these Hawthorne boys with their lightning reflexes. I didn't want to find out whether he could throw a knife as well as Gale could the hard way. When I was about 5 feet away I called to him "Rory? Can we talk?"

He was on his feet in a second, but I almost wished his eyes had been angry. Instead, they were cold, dead. He didn't answer, but sat back down and started fiddling with his fishing rod. I sat down on a rock, facing him.

"How are you?"

He said nothing.

I was about to say something else when he snapped "How do you think I am?"

"I know." Now that I was here I didn't know where to begin. So I said something stupid. "I was hoping that you would come to the . . . ."

"No."

We sat in silence. I tried to remember what I'd been thinking when I hated Gale. Rory broke the stillness. "I'm leaving District 12."

"Where will you go?" My chest ached for him. Didn't he know that he couldn't outrun the pain?

"No idea."

If he left we might never find him again. Questions weren't getting me very far. It seemed so wrong for talkative Rory to be so quiet.

I bit my lip. I could just tell him how I had felt. Except I didn't do stuff like that.

I took a deep breath. He was so mad. I couldn't make it worse. But maybe I could get him to follow my path. "You know I hated Gale at first, too. I thought I could never forgive him."

"But then you gave in." His voice was cold. He turned a rock over and over in his hand. Fidgeting. Just like Gale.

"Yes."

"I thought you loved her," he said.

Prim's gentle smile filled my mind. What I wouldn't give to touch her cheek again. "I did. I do."

Rory threw the rock into the creek. It sank. It would stay there, unmoving under the water until . . . maybe forever.

"You know he's sorry. You saw how much it tore him up to know what he had done."

"That doesn't bring her back."

I flinched. Just what I had said. The ache was still there.

"Neither does hating him." I picked a blade of grass and started tying it into knots. I took a deep breath and silently called to Prim to help me.

"I think we'll see her again," I said.

He glared at me. "No. We won't."

"I think we'll see them all again: Prim, Peeta, Finnick, Rue, my dad, your dad, Cinna, Madge, Marik, . . ." I had to stop. There were so many. I closed my eyes against the pain.

"You can ask her to help you." I studied the knotted grass in my hands.

"That's bat-shit crazy," he said.

I had to smile. "That's what I thought. But Peeta told me to ask him for a sign and he would help me. And I did. And he has. Rory, when I forgave Gale I couldn't believe what a load lifted off of my shoulders. You are hurting yourself as much as you are hurting him."

Rory stood up, his face as hard as ever. "Don't mess with me."

I sat there and watched him as he grabbed his fishing pole and left. Even angry, he moved as silently as Gale. I sighed. Would he leave tonight? If I had some sort of tracker I could slip it into his bag. Without one . . . .

Hazelle and my mom were in the kitchen when I got back. They had their sleeves rolled up and were kneading bread. Hazelle gave me a questioning look, but I just shook my head. I went to the sink and washed my hands, thinking of the stone lost into the river. I dried off and asked "Can I help?"

My mother pointed to a bowl of risen dough. "You can do that one." As I punched the dough down I felt a tear roll down my cheek. I wiped it on my shoulder and began to work the dough over. I would have to trust Prim to find a way to save him.

We were married two days later, on May 1st. The spring sun shown bright and warm. We went to the new Justice Building, Undersee Hall, named in honor of the now-revealed revolutionary efforts of Madge and her father. After signing our marriage certificate, exchanging rings, and sharing a serious kiss, we came out to find a crowd of friends and family waiting to walk us home.

We had borrowed every table and chair we could find and set them up in the field behind our house. Thank God the weather was beautiful since we would have smothered if we had had to fit everyone in the house. We decorated the tables with alyssum and dandelions. Posy was more than happy to help gather both.

Gale, Vick and Bristel had been hunting all week. I'd gone with them some and done what I could to help my mom, Hazelle and Greasy Sae cook up enough food for the feast. Annie jumped in too once she and her boys arrived, bringing a load of clams with them. We roasted venison, rabbit, and some people ate turkey, although I still couldn't stand the taste. We had clam chowder, fried clams, Greasy Sae's stew, wild asparagus, and dandelion salad with some chopped katniss my mother had found. Cute. We made fresh bread and Hazelle made us a lovely cake, which she and Posy decorated with wildflowers. It was almost as pretty as one of Peeta's.

I couldn't believe how many people had come: pretty much all of the resettled residents of District 12, Captain Brighton and Gale's whole squad, Julina, Johanna, Rutilus. Even Veritas was there. We let him take some pictures, as long as he wasn't obnoxious. I figured we owed him at least that for his help back in District 2.

After dinner we did our toasting on a campfire Gale had set up in the yard. Then someone broke out a fiddle and the dancing began.

We danced until I was starting to get blisters, then I kicked off my shoes and danced some more.

Most of the dances we do in District 12 are lively wheels where you start with one partner, and occasionally run into your original partner again, but in the meantime dance with pretty much everyone there. It's a great way to get to see everybody at a party, and way more fun than the kind of dancing we did in the Capitol on our Victory Tour. Although, honestly, I'm glad they didn't dance that way in the Capitol. There were always people at those parties who I wouldn't have wanted to touch.

But every once in a while our fiddler would give us all a break and play a slow song, meant to be danced with just one partner. A lot of people took that chance to run grab something cold to drink, get something to eat. I was just headed off to grab some more cake when I felt Gale's hand grab me by the waist.

"Not so fast. Where do you think you're off to?"

"I'm hungry. I was going to grab some of that food we've been working on for days."

"Dance with me first?" He gave me one of those 'staring right in my eyes like he's forgotten the rest of the world is there' looks. He was fighting dirty now; he knew I could never refuse that look.

"Okay," I said, amazed to find myself blushing. I was his wife now. What did I have to blush about?

For a few moments I just enjoyed closing my eyes to get rid of everything else, and felt the strength of his shoulder, the steady thumping of his heart.

"Hey, look who's over there. Some interesting dance combinations showing up." He interrupted my bliss. There'd be time for that later.

I looked around. Mercurius and Johanna – they weren't so much dancing as making out. They'd been a surprise to me, but not to Gale. He said he saw that coming as soon as Mercurius discovered the ability to occasionally be quiet. Groves and his wife, holding their precious baby while they danced. I still needed to thank Dr. Adrian for all he'd done for them. Captain Brighton and his wife – she was giggling like a teenager. Annie and Doc – they were dancing with plenty of space between them, like they'd just met, which was probably true. Still, two very nice people, maybe they'd get along.

Gale poked me. I still hadn't seen the surprise he was talking about. He used his hand, while keeping my hand in his grip, to point over toward the still-burning campfire. Julina and Redstone – and she had her eyes closed and her head on his shoulder, looking as content as I'd been just a minute earlier.

"They look like they've hit it off," Gale murmured. He bent down to lean his forehead against mine and it was his turn to close his eyes and slip away for a moment.

All too soon our moment of bliss was interrupted again. This time by a tugging on my skirt. Posy.

"It's time for my present." She pulled me to her table, Gale following along. Then she made me close my eyes and hold out my hands. I opened them to see a small rabbit skin pouch. "Look in it," she prompted eagerly.

I reached in and found a small, smooth white rock. "It's one of my very best rocks." I saw her glance at Gale and something passed between them. "It's a wishing rock. It really works, too."

"I don't know if I can accept this," I said. "What will you have to wish on then?"

"Oh, I have another one," she said reaching into the pocket of her lovely yellow dress. She pulled out a smooth red translucent stone.

"Wow, that's a pretty one," said Gale, leaning over. "It looks like its magic. Where did you get it?"

Posy blushed and looked down at the floor, then she looked up at me, eyes wide, and said in a timid voice "It's a secret." I couldn't imagine what kind of a secret she could have, but it was obvious she didn't want to tell Gale where she got it.

"Gale," I intervened. "Could you get me a glass of water? Posy and I are going to have a little girl-talk." He raised his eyebrows at me, but, after a quick kiss on my head, left to give us a little privacy.

"So this is a very beautiful rock," I said, examining the smooth white stone in my hand. "Thank you very much." I figured that if she wanted to tell me where she got the red one, she would.

"It's a wishing rock," she repeated. "And it works. I've been wishing for Gale on it. He was so sad when I talked to him on the phone. And Mama told me you weren't friends anymore. So I wished that you could be friends again so he'd be happy. And it worked." She frowned as she rested her head against me. "I didn't know there'd be so much kissing." I had to laugh. I had no idea that my destiny had been controlled by a lovely young lady with a rock.

She looked at me thoughtfully. "Are you my aunt now?" I almost said yes, then I realized that was wrong.

"No, I am your sister-in-law." She seemed disappointed.

"What's wrong?"

"Is that like a sister?" she asked.

"Yes, just like a sister."

Her face broke out in a beaming smile. "I always wanted a sister. There are so many boys around."

"Now you have one." I gave her a hug and a kiss on her cheek. "So, sister, is this one a wishing rock, too?" I asked turning her hand over so that we could see the red rock clutched in her palm.

"I think so." She looked at it intently. "I haven't tested it yet, but it does look like magic. Peeta gave it to me as a prize." That was a surprise. Not only that Peeta gave it to her, but more, that she hadn't wanted Gale to know. And she had known that Gale and I . . . weren't friends. How much more did she understand?

"He did? A prize for what?" My curiosity was really up now.

"One day I was at your house. Mama was getting laundry and I went in the back to play 'cuz there were a lot of pretty flowers. Peeta came and was sitting on the stairs doing something. Mama came out and we were going to leave, but he asked if I could stay and finish my dandelion crown. Mama said it was okay. So I did. When I was done, he said thank you and gave me this rock for my prize."

Oh, it was her payment for sitting for her own portrait. "Can I see it?" I asked and she gingerly handed it to me. I wondered when and where Peeta had gotten it. I had no idea. It was an odd shape that reminded me of something. With a shock I realized that it looked like a heart. Not a paper heart shape, but a real flesh and blood heart. But it wasn't creepy. It was smooth, red and beautiful. I handed it back to Posy. "Do you want to keep your pouch to put it in?"

"No, the pouch belongs with the other one. Mama made it special for it."

"So what are you going to keep this one in?" I asked.

"I don't know. My pocket for now, 'till I find something good enough for it."

"I have an idea. Come with me." I took Posy by the hand and went into the house. There, on the kitchen counter, I'd left my purse. It was a tiny, golden handbag, a relic from my former life as a victor. I had grabbed it today since it didn't seem right for a bride to carry my usual bag, which still smelled slightly of dead squirrel. I dumped out its meager contents - lipstick and a handkerchief - then turned to Posy.

"Would this work?"

Her eyes lit up.

"It's perfect." We slipped the rock into the bag, then I put the strap over Posy's head. We went back outside to look for Gale.

My heart clenched. He was standing by his family's table, embracing Rory. His eyes met mine and he gave me a glorious smile. I hurried with Posy over to their table. He broke from Rory, gave me a quick hug and said softly "Rory wants to talk to you." Then he swept Posy up. "Come on, little girl," he said. "You haven't danced with me."

Posy dissolved into giggles as Gale threw her over his shoulder.

I sat down next to Rory. "So you came," I said leaning close to him. He gave me a warm grin. It was like looking at a different person from the other day.

"Now I'm bat-shit crazy, too," he said.

"What happened?" I was eager to hear what Prim had pulled off.

He gazed off into the trees. His voice was solemn. "Does Buttercup ever bring you . . . presents?"

"No. We get along better than before, but he doesn't like me quite that much. He used to bring Peeta some lovely ones, though." Cats are so disgusting.

"That night, after I talked to you, I was missing Prim so much that I gave in and tried to talk to her. I told her how much I missed her and asked her to send me a sign if I would ever see her again. In the morning, I woke up and saw Buttercup sleeping on my bed. I hated that cat because he reminded me so much of Prim, of how much she loved him even though he was horrible. So I pushed him off of the bed. The next morning, same thing. Which was weird because he'd never done that before. But I still didn't get it.

"Then this morning I was lying in bed. I couldn't sleep. I was going to leave, today, while everyone else was off at the wedding. Then I heard something, someone coming into my room. I looked but didn't see anyone. I sat up and saw Buttercup standing there just inside the door. He had a tail dangling out of his mouth. He just sauntered in and then he spit this dead mouse on the floor, looked at me like he'd just left a pile of gold coins there, turned, and left. At first, all I could think was how mad mom'd be after all her cleaning this week to find mouse guts on the floor. I grabbed a dirty shirt, picked up the mouse and sneaked out of the room. I went out back and I was going to chuck it into the grass behind the house."

He stopped. He took a sip of water and ran his fingers through his hair. "Do you ever think to yourself 'I have to tell Prim about this' – and then it feels like you've lost her again when you remember you can't tell her?" I nodded. All day I had been thinking about how much Prim would have loved the wedding, the party, the cake, the dancing.

"So, I thought to myself how Prim wouldn't think it was disgusting. She would think it was sweet for Buttercup to bring me a gift. She would say 'See, that just proves that he loves you.' She was such a sucker for that cat. And then it hit me. I sat down on the stoop, still holding that gross mouse. As far as I know Buttercup had never even been in our new house. But he came right in, right to my room. Why would he do that?

"I left the mouse, still in my shirt, next to the stoop. I went in, got dressed and left mom a note telling her that I had gone for a walk and not to wait for me. Then I picked up the mouse and went for a long, aimless walk. I ended up back over by the creek. I threw the mouse in. I guess I didn't want Buttercup to know I hadn't kept his gift. I figured the water would cover its scent. Then I realized that I knew what it meant, what it had to mean. It was Prim sending me a sign. Nothing else made sense. Not that that made any sense either.

"So then I thought 'Fine, she sent me a sign. I still don't have to forgive him.' But somehow I didn't want to leave the District any more. I felt like if I stayed here she might send me another sign. I felt like I would be closer to Prim if I stayed. I was really tired. I haven't been sleeping much and I guess I fell asleep leaning up against this tree.

"I dreamed about Prim. She was just playing that flashlight game with her dumb cat. I wanted her to talk to me, to tell me what to do, but it was nothing like that. At least it wasn't . . . anything horrible, not a nightmare. When I woke up I thought about what she would want me to do. All along I've known that she would want me to forgive him. She was just nice like that. So finally, I decided 'okay.' I'd do it - for her. So, here I am.

I reached over and gave Rory a hug. He seemed a bit uncomfortable, but he let me do it. "Thanks so much for coming. So, do you think Buttercup will stop bringing you mice now or bring you even more?"

"I have no idea. I guess I'm okay with it either way." I had tears in my eyes. Thinking of Prim always did that to me. Then he looked at me and said "So, do you want to dance or what?"

We joined into the dance that was in full swing. I looked around for Gale, but didn't see him or Posy in the throng.

As the dance ended, I looked over and saw him leaning against the doorway of the house, our house. He caught my eye and mouthed something to me across the yard. I couldn't make it out and for a moment I flashed back to the worst day of my life. Gale had tried to tell me something, across the pit gaping where the Capitol street had been and, like today, I hadn't been able to tell what he was saying. I felt the cold claw of confused terror slide down my back.

I shook my head and snapped myself out of it. The warm sun shone down on me and I let it chase away the chill of my memory. All of that was over now. I wasn't going to let the horrors of the past mar this beautiful day.

Gale gave me a puzzled frown. I just said to him across the crowd "What?"

"Let's go." This time I could read him as though he were standing next to me. I smiled and nodded, as I began to slip through the crowd of our friends and family toward Gale and the new life we were going to build.

Together.

**Thanks so much to all of you for completing this journey with me. Thanks to IrishLuck19 for helping me with tenses, commas, dialogue tags and for your always insightful comments.**

**If you've gotten this far and are wondering if a review would make any difference – the answer is "YES!" I love reviews. (Who doesn't?) Let me know your favorite character, your favorite scene, the one part that ruined the whole thing for you, the one thing you just don't understand – whatever you're thinking drop me a line. I'm flattered that this story still has so many readers, but I'd love to hear from more of you.**

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**What's next – for me I'm working on a non-fanfic YA paranormal novel. And a Gale/Madge that has lodged itself in my head is begging to be put on paper (metaphorically).**

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